


We Opened the Door (Now it’s All Coming Through)

by madsthenerdygirl



Series: i carry your heart with me [i carry it in my heart] [4]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: All the Tea, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Completely Unnecessary Pining, EVERYONE - Freeform, EVERYONE is Sad in Here Children, F/M, Featuring Bunker Mom Denise, Flynn is Understandably Upset, Garcy Angst Too, Heavy Angst, It Does Not Go According to Plan, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oh No No, Rufus is the Best Person Ever, So Much Soul Searching, So Much Wyatt Tea, Sorry Not Sorry, Subtitled Wyatt Logan Faces and Deals with His Shit, Trash ot3, Wyatt Logan: This is Your Life, Wyatt Tries to Court Flynn, You Didn't Think You'd Escape That Did You?, eventual polyamory, so much, so much pining, soul searching, stupid boys are stupid, which is ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Flynn’s gun was still in his face, and that’s when Wyatt heard the worst words of all.“Wyatt?” Denise asked. “Wyatt who?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Title is from the Florence + the Machine song "How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful."

Lucy laughed so hard she could feel herself making Flynn shake underneath her. “No, no, no, really—was I really that obvious?”

Flynn was laughing too, staring down at her and smiling. She had her head in his lap and her legs draped over Wyatt, who Flynn was currently holding onto because Wyatt had nearly fallen off the bed.

“I swear,” Wyatt informed her. “You just flipped me and I was like oh, okay, I see how it is.”

They were telling her about how things had been in their timeline—before Rittenhouse had changed it and Lucy had ended up on their side, Amy as collateral to keep her in line. Lucy couldn’t remember this timeline, but the men could, and over time learning about what an alternate version of herself had once had went from painful to amusing. Well, mostly amusing.

Right now, Wyatt was telling her about their first time in Hollywood where he, quote, ‘knew she was a top’.

“Oh, God.” Lucy buried her face in her hands. “You make it sound like I just used you.”

“You don’t hear me complaining.” She could imagine Wyatt’s face even if she couldn’t see it. “Just pushed me down and rode me like a—”

“Oh my _God_.”

Flynn pried her hands away from her face as Lucy tried to squirm away. “Flynn, no.”

“Your blush is adorable.”

Lucy flipped him off.

She and Flynn had been… interesting. In her timeline, all she knew was that she and Wyatt had a thing, and that Flynn was… a mess. But in Wyatt and Flynn’s timeline, they’d been married to her for months. Finding her way back to that with Flynn—and then Jess showing up in the meantime and that whole mess—while trying keep Wyatt…

It had been a journey, to say the least.

But now she looked up at Flynn and wondered how the hell she’d ever live without him.

She hoped she’d never have to find out.

“You two are awful,” she said out loud, because she didn’t want to drag the mood down. “Why did I marry either of you.”

“For the sex, obviously,” Wyatt said.

Lucy kicked him. “Traitor.”

There was a knock at the door.

Lucy sat up. “Come in?”

The door opened, but she already knew who it was. Who it could be, at this late hour.

Amy Preston stood in the doorway. Still a little skittish, still a little thin. “Lucy?”

“Hey, baby.” Lucy swung her legs around and stood up, walking over to her. “Nightmares?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you guys,” Amy said, looking at Wyatt and Flynn. “It’s… kind of your honeymoon…”

They’d gotten ‘married’ yesterday, or as married as they could be while being polyamorous and fugitives who were technically dead or supposed to be out of the country.

“No, no, I’ll come lie down with you.”

After everything she’d gone through as a captive of Rittenhouse, Amy had a lot of nightmares. Lucy ended up singing her to sleep more often than not.

She looked back at Flynn and Wyatt. “Go on,” Flynn said, Wyatt waving her out the door. “We’ll be fine.”

Lucy nodded. Part of her still didn’t understand how Wyatt and Flynn had reached the dynamic that they had, the trust between them deep and innate. When she’d last seen them, they were at each other’s throats. Enemies. The next time, they were married, in love, begging her to come home.

But even if she didn’t understand it, she was glad for it. She couldn’t be all of what either of them needed right now, not while she had to take care of Amy. Until then, they had each other.

“I’ll be back,” Lucy said. Even if they’d already be asleep by the time she tiptoed back in.

She led Amy from the room.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said again as Lucy curled around her in bed.

“No. Never apologize, okay? We talked about that. This is their fault, not yours.” _And mine. My fault. I should’ve gotten you out sooner._

Lucy hummed quietly as Amy held onto her. “Luce?”

“Yeah Ames?”

“What if things change again?” She could hear Amy starting to cry, even if she couldn’t see her in the dark. “What if things change on a mission and I—I stop existing again, or I’m in a timeline where you didn’t save me and I’m back—I’m back in, in that room, or—”

Lucy tightened her hold on her sister. “Listen to me,” she said. “Nothing will change this. Okay? Mom made sure you existed again, so you won’t disappear. And we made sure to rescue you, and we’d do that in any timeline. There’s no timeline where I don’t take care of you.”

Amy nodded against Lucy’s chest. “Okay,” she whispered.

Lucy ran her finger over the wedding ring, the small metal circle suddenly so much heavier than it had been before.

 

* * *

 

Flynn was injured on the _Lusitania._

It was a madhouse, twenty minutes before the ship was underwater, and honestly, Lucy was surprised that they didn’t make it out with even worse injuries. Flynn got hit by a bunch of falling crates and ended up with a fractured wrist.

Fun times all around.

When the alert for the Mothership blared again, Flynn wasn’t too happy about being left behind. Especially after what had happened when Lucy had been left behind one time. They’d come back to find her working for Rittenhouse and remembering nothing of the year of love and laughter they’d shared.

He put his wedding ring in Lucy’s palm. It felt like it burned her skin. “Just be careful.”

“We always are,” she told him, even though it was a blatant lie. They weren’t nearly as careful as they should be, a lot of the time, all of them more dedicated to the mission than to their own lives.

She didn’t hear what Flynn said to Wyatt when he pulled him in, but it made Wyatt tighten his hold on Flynn’s shoulders before nodding. They didn’t kiss—they didn’t do that in front of others, not unless it was only Lucy—but they rested their foreheads together for a moment before Wyatt hurried up the Lifeboat steps.

Lucy was quite happy to take a kiss in his place, Flynn’s mouth warm against hers.

“Burning daylight!” Rufus reminded them, having already said goodbye to Jiya and gotten into the pilot’s seat.

They jumped back to World War II.

“Rozwadów,” Rufus said as they landed. “What’s in freakin’ Rozwadów?”

Lucy had to think about that one for a moment. “Eugene Łazowski,” she said at last. “Polish doctor, saved the lives of over eight thousand Polish Jews. They must be after him.”

“How did he save them?” Wyatt asked, unbuckling.

“Injected them with a vaccine that made them test positive for typhus without actually giving them the disease,” Lucy said. “He injected them and got them all quarantined, away from the concentration camps, where they could be moved to somewhere safer.”

“Of course Rittenhouse would want him dead,” Rufus groused.

“Or alive,” Wyatt replied. “Medical knowledge like that, maybe they want him to work for them instead in some way.”

Turned out, Rufus was right.

Rittenhouse very much wanted Łazowski dead, and they wanted it done before he saved anyone’s life.

“These guys just get more awful every day,” Rufus complained at one point.

Emma wasn’t even around half the time nowadays to punch, far too busy as the new head of Rittenhouse to do things like get her feet dirty every single mission.

But everything went well, save for when they had to fight off Rittenhouse in the clinic and Łazowski’s assistant, a nurse, was shot and died.

It was odd, Lucy thought. On the one hand it was such a small thing. Just one person. And not the person Rittenhouse had wanted. Their mission could be called a success.

But could any mission where someone died be called successful?

The woman hadn’t even been a woman, really. Just a girl. A young, brave, determined girl. Even younger than Amy.

Lucy couldn’t get it out of her head as they buckled up to go back home. Wyatt put his hand on hers as they jumped.

“You have to focus on the good things,” he reminded her. If they thought about all the ways they’d failed, they’d fall into a pit they’d never climb out of.

Rufus sighed as he parked. It was ludicrously funny to Lucy that the Lifeboat actually had a parking brake. Safety regulations or some such. “Another day, another dollar.”

Lucy unbuckled, letting Wyatt get out first. She emerged, ready for Flynn’s waiting hands to help her down, when she froze as a shout rang out.

She looked up.

Wyatt was standing at the foot of the steps, his hands in the air.

And Flynn was pointing a gun right in his face.

 

* * *

 

“Garcia?” Wyatt asked.

He could hardly breathe. What was happening, what was going on, why would—why would Flynn—

Then he saw who was standing behind Flynn, gun also at the ready.

Wyatt’s heart stopped. “Bam Bam?”

Dave—Dave had died, he’d been shot in Paris, Lucy and Rufus had told him—but Dave was standing there, very much alive…

“How do you know that nickname,” Dave snapped, gun raised towards Wyatt.

“What the fuck?” Rufus blurted out. “What are you guys doing?”

“Rufus, Lucy.” It was Denise. “Are you two okay? Did he take you hostage?”

“What?” Lucy sounded outraged. “Denise, no, this is Wyatt.”

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Flynn had no twitch of recognition at the name. He was staring Wyatt down, suspicion written plain on his face, and for a moment it was like the beginning all over again, tied to a chair, knowing Flynn could and would shoot him if given the right incentive or the wrong move was made.

Flynn’s gun was still in his face, and that’s when Wyatt heard the worst words of all.

“Wyatt?” Denise asked. “Wyatt who?”


	2. Chapter 2

The gun was still in Wyatt’s face as Lucy hurried down the steps, literally inserting herself between the two men. “Stop it!”

Flynn’s eyes went wide and he stepped back, dropping the gun immediately. “Lucy—” He sounded betrayed.

“Could everybody just… calm down for two seconds?” Rufus asked. “Please?”

Flynn took a step back, his gaze darting from Lucy to Wyatt and back again. “Someone explain.”

Wyatt resisted the urge to reach up for the ring hanging from the chain around his neck. He was wearing it because he could hide it under his shirt, while Lucy’s dress had shown too much of her neckline.

It was Flynn’s wedding ring.

Whichever one of them had to stay behind—although it was rare now that there were four seats on the Lifeboat—gave their wedding ring on a chain to one of the other two to wear.

Wyatt had been walking over to give it to Flynn but… then there’d been a gun in his face.

“It’s me,” he pleaded, even as his sinking stomach told him it wasn’t going to work. “Garcia, it’s me. Wyatt.”

He tried taking a step forward but Flynn just cocked the gun as a warning. His gaze was cold.

Wyatt froze.

Rufus sighed. “Okay. In our timeline, when we were all chosen to go after Flynn in the Lifeboat, Wyatt was the soldier chosen to accompany us. Not Baumgardner. I guarantee you whatever position Dave’s had for you guys, Wyatt’s held it for us. We went on a mission, Wyatt existed, we come back, you’re saying you don’t know him.”

Everyone looked at Wyatt like he was a zoo exhibit.

“I can check in on it,” Jiya said.

“Wait,” Lucy blurted out. “Wait, is—is my sister—”

“Amy’s in her room,” Dave said.

Tears sprang up into Lucy’s eyes and she let out a shaky breath. “Okay. H-how’s she doing?”

“Fine, why wouldn’t she be?” Denise replied.

Wyatt knew why. So did Rufus. In their timeline, Amy had been brought back to existence by Carol and Emma expressly as leverage against Lucy and had been held by Rittenhouse for months. Her captivity had been far from pleasant.

Lucy looked at Wyatt, clearly torn between staying to protect him and going to check on Amy.

“Wyatt?” Jiya said, sitting in front of the computers. “I need your family history. Parents, grandparents…”

Wyatt slowly walked over to her. Flynn and Dave were watching him the whole time. Dave. The man who’d replaced him while Wyatt was facing a court martial. The one who’d died in Wyatt’s place, when Wyatt should’ve been there.

Denise gestured for Wyatt to get on with it with Jiya. Wyatt wasn’t stupid—he knew what this was. If he couldn’t produce actual ancestors, if he couldn’t somehow convince them with his lineage of who he was…

Flynn and Dave were both excellent shots.

“Mom?”

“Um, born Laura Novak. It was, um, changed from Nowak. Nobody could pronounce it properly when her parents came over on the boat.” He added his mom’s birthdates and location.

Jiya frowned. “There’s no record of a Laura Novak or a Laura Nowak on that date and location.”

Wyatt’s throat went tight. “Can you try… um, her parents? My grandparents?”

His grandfather existed all right, but when he said Amalia Lazlo…

“I see the problem.” Jiya nodded. “Amalia Lazlo died in World War II.”

“What?” Wyatt crowded her, trying to see the screen. “How?”

“Shot by an unknown agent while helping…”

Wyatt’s eyes went wide. The nurse. The young nurse from the mission.

“…Eugene Łazowski,” he finished for her.

Jiya stared up at him. “How’d you know that?”

“The nurse?” Rufus asked. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Denise asked.

“A woman on our mission, a nurse, died,” Rufus said. “That was our mission, Rittenhouse was going after Eugene so we tried to stop them and one of his assistants died in the process.”

“Amalia,” Lucy said softly.

Wyatt felt like the world was spinning. That had been his grandmother. He hadn’t even recognized her. She’d died and never had his mom, his mom had never met his dad, Wyatt had never been born…

He thought he might actually throw up.

“Shit,” Rufus said again. “Can we go back?”

“Crossing over our own timeline is shaky,” Mason said. “We accomplished it once, after you…”

“…after I died?” Rufus finished for him, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, I remember.”

“It’s not recommended that you go back,” Mason emphasized.

“But Wyatt can’t not exist!” Lucy said, her voice cracking. “He’s right in front of us!”

Wyatt could feel his heart twisting. Lucy had gone through this already with Amy.

Mason walked over to him, eyes drifting over Wyatt’s form curiously. “A person that has literally traveled from one timeline to another,” he mused. “A person that existed in one timeline… and now doesn’t exist in the other… but was brought over because of being in the machine. Fascinating.”

“If you could stop staring at my husband like he’s a test subject,” Lucy snapped.

Flynn visibly started. “Husband?”

Ohhhh fuck.

Wyatt had a moment of hysteria where he wondered if Flynn was about to say that Dave was the third in this universe, that it was him and Dave and Lucy, and he almost threw up again.

But instead Flynn stuttered out, “So it’s—in your world it’s you and him.”

Lucy looked like she might cry. “No, it’s you and me and him.”

Flynn went still. His eyes cut over to Wyatt.

Was Flynn not out in this timeline? Was he not bi at all?

“I see.” Flynn nodded curtly. “I’ll just—if you’ll excuse me.”

Flynn walked quickly out of the room.

“Garcia…” Lucy took a few steps to follow him, then turned back to look at Wyatt.

“Go on,” Wyatt told her. It felt like his voice was scraping up out of his throat.

Lucy nodded, then hurried out after Flynn. He could hear her voice echoing down the hallway as she chased him. “Garcia!”

Denise unfolded her arms and nodded at Dave, who finally holstered his gun. “All right. Wyatt… Logan, was it?”

Wyatt nodded.

Denise gestured at the kitchen table. “I’d like you to give me a statement, please. Rufus, if you could give one to Mason in his room. Recorded if possible.”

Wyatt almost wanted to clutch at Rufus, to beg him not to leave. But he just swallowed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rufus reached out, squeezing Wyatt’s shoulder, then followed Mason out of the room. After chewing on her lip for about ten seconds, Jiya darted up and followed them.

Denise sat down at the table, pulling out her phone to record. Wyatt sat down as well.

“All right, Mr. Logan. Let’s start at the beginning.”

 

* * *

 

“Rufus!” Jiya hurried after him.

Rufus turned. “Jiya?”

She skidded to a halt. “Are—are you—are we—?”

Jiya stopped, staring at him hopefully.

“In my timeline we’re…” Rufus cleared his throat, painfully aware that Connor was watching. “We’re together. You’re—I love you.”

Jiya’s face crumpled in relief and she flung herself into his arms, kissing him repeatedly on the mouth. “Thank fuck.”

 _We turned out luckier than those poor bastards_ , Rufus thought. He squeezed Jiya tightly. There’d be no timeline where he didn’t love her. None.

 

* * *

 

Lucy hurried after Flynn. “Garcia, please!”

Flynn paused, scrubbing a hand across his face before turning to face her. Lucy could see the glint of two wedding rings on his finger—one for Lorena, presumably, and one for…

Lucy’s breath caught. “Is one of those…”

“Yours, yes.” Flynn sounded harsh in the way that he got when he was hurt and trying to hide it through anger. “We’ve been married for a year. Happy anniversary.”

Lucy strode forward, her hands balled into fists. “I’m married to you in my timeline too, you jerk,” she snapped. “Just because I’m with Wyatt too doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Flynn gave a harsh, pained laugh. “You can’t say that. You can’t say that you love me.”

“And why not?”

“Think, Lucy.” His eyes were dark and unfathomable. “Think of all the things you’ve been through with me. All we’ve done together. How many of those memories are different for me? How many of those things happened differently or didn’t happen at all?”

“We love each other, don’t we?” Lucy replied. Desperation welled up in her chest, swelling, threatening to push out all the breath and strangle her. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

“How do I know you’re loving me?” Flynn asked. “And not the Flynn that you knew? Do you know—what I’ve done, Lucy—”

“You’ve done a lot of shit,” Lucy replied. “Maybe it was different shit in my timeline than in yours but I refuse to believe you’re not the same. Garcia I won’t.”

Flynn’s gaze searched her face. “You look so much like her,” he murmured. “You could be her.”

“I _am_ her,” Lucy screamed, tears finally sliding free. “I’m her, I’m Lucy—”

“You may be _a_ Lucy,” Flynn replied, “but you’re not _my_ Lucy. I need—I need time, all right? I need—”

He cut himself off with a frustrated burst of Croatian, then turned and walked away.

Lucy felt the world tilt swiftly, the ground rising up to meet her, and then two hands caught her, pulling her against them.

For a wild moment she thought it was Flynn coming back, but then she smelled strawberries and realized who it was.

“Whoa, there.” Amy cradled her in her arms. “Easy.”

Lucy turned towards her sister and clutched at her. “Amy. Amy—”

“Shhhhh.” Amy stroked her hair. “I’m here, Lucy. I’m here.”

Lucy held onto Amy and sobbed.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt knew what he was in for with an interrogation. Denise wasn’t the type to leave any stone unturned.

But it still took hours. Wyatt felt completely drained by the end of it.

“Well?” he asked. “Am I free to go? Convinced I’m not some brainwashing Rittenhouse spy?”

Denise stopped the recording. “Flippant remarks aren’t going to endear you to me, Mr. Logan.”

“Sergeant,” Wyatt replied. He’d earned that rank, dammit.

Denise raised an eyebrow. “Sergeant Logan. Very well. I suppose we can set you up in Dave’s room.”

Wyatt nodded, his throat tight. “Permission to go?”

“Dave will escort you.” Denise wasn’t even making an effort to be subtle.

“I’d like to see Lucy.”

“What you do is your choice. I’m only saying that you’re under surveillance.”

Wyatt stood. “Ma’am.”

Seeing that cold, suspicious look in Denise’s eyes was worse than he’d anticipated. He hadn’t realized how much warmth was in her gaze until it was gone.

He didn’t actually go to see Lucy.

He went to the bathroom and threw up.

 

* * *

 

“There,” Amy said as Lucy sipped her glass of water. “All better.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘all’ better,” Lucy replied, sinking back into Amy’s bed.

She looked over at her sister. Her cheerful, healthy sister, who showed no physical or mental signs of having been beaten and starved for months. “Ames?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s our family like, what do you remember?”

Amy sat down, sighing. “Um… well, I remember that we were raised by Mom and Dad until the divorce. And I remember… after you started time traveling you figured out what we had different fathers. You learned your dad was Rittenhouse and a creep. And then Mom turned out to be Rittenhouse too which was pretty crappy and was why she’d divorced Dad and I remember being glad Dad had died of cancer which meant he wasn’t alive to hear about this which was a pretty damn sucky thing to feel. And when you found out Mom kidnapped you, and Dave hurried to get me into the bunker because Denise thought that Rittenhouse might come after me too.

“You were with Mom and Rittenhouse for six weeks until we got you back. I knew some… history from you and Mom so I helped when I could but luckily Dave and Rufus were alone when they found you so we had enough seats. Rufus figured out how to add a fourth seat with Jiya soon after that. We… ran into Mom a few times.”

“Ran?”

Amy’s eyes darkened. “She died. Emma shot her. In Chinatown.”

Lucy nodded. That was the same, then. Or similar enough.

Thank God, she thought. Thank God that Amy hadn’t had to go through everything she’d been through in Lucy’s timeline. Thank God she was okay.

“You don’t… you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” Amy blinked at her.

“I’m… different. I’m not the Lucy you know.” Flynn’s voice, his face was burned into her memory. She could see it when she closed her eyes.

“Of course you are,” Amy replied.

Lucy stared at her.

Amy smiled softly, taking Lucy’s hand. “You’ll always be my sister. And if some things are different, that’s okay. It’s like if you went away for a few years and came back. You’ll have changed. I’ll have changed. But we’re still sisters. I still love you and you still love me, right? What else really matters? We’ll figure out the rest.”

It was so the opposite of what Flynn had said that Lucy started crying.

“Oh, honey.” Amy took the water from her, setting it aside, and pulled Lucy into her arms again. “Lucy, love isn’t just a feeling. It’s a choice. And I choose to love you and to make it work, no matter what timeline we’re in. Okay?”

Lucy sobbed, nodding. “Okay.”

“I take it you’ll be sleeping with me tonight,” Amy said wryly.

Lucy nodded again.

“Okay, Luce. Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt stumbled out of the bathroom and literally ran into Flynn. “Garcia.”

Flynn arched an eyebrow at him. “Logan.”

Wyatt realized that he’d automatically put his hands on Flynn’s arms and let go. “You aren’t with your wife.”

Flynn stared at him for a moment. He seemed to be searching Wyatt’s face for something. Wyatt had seen Flynn angry with him, several times. Especially when they’d first met and had been on opposite sides. But Flynn was looking at him now with a kind of dispassion, almost as though he was calculating, and it made Wyatt want to throw up all over again.

“How long have we been together?” Flynn asked quietly.

“Two years,” Wyatt replied.

Flynn gave a slight nod and took a step back so that Wyatt could walk past him.

“Don’t you care?” Wyatt blurted out. “Don’t you want to know about—about what it was like for us? In our timeline?”

It occurred to him that he was now the only one who remembered how it had originally been. Before timelines had changed and Lucy had been working with Rittenhouse. The first timeline, the original one, Wyatt was the only one from there now.

Flynn looked him up and down. “Whatever Flynn you were with, I’m not him,” he replied. “So no.”

It felt like a gut punch.

Flynn entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t breathe.

The moment the bathroom door locked shut behind him Flynn’s legs gave out and he sagged against the wall, sliding to the floor.

Lucy, _his_ Lucy, his wife, was gone.

He’d thought that losing Lorena and Iris was the worst thing that could happen to him and that loss wasn’t suddenly diminished but fuck, it was almost worse to have Lucy, a Lucy he didn’t know, standing in front of him.

They had different memories now. How could he know that she would still love him once she knew what he was, what he’d done? What if she loved a man that he couldn’t actually replace?

And Logan…

It wasn’t the idea of loving two people that made Flynn take a step back. Nor was it the idea of loving a man. But this was someone he didn’t know, someone walking in and claiming to be married to Flynn, to know him, and Flynn… had no fucking clue what to do with that.

_Garcia. It’s me._

But who was Wyatt? And who was Flynn to him? Was the Flynn that Wyatt knew the same mess that this Flynn was?

He wanted to go to Lucy and hold her, kiss her all over, feel her softness and her warmth. But how could he reconcile the Lucy he’d known and fallen in love with, with the Lucy in front of him now?

And the truth was—this Wyatt, sure, he was attractive. More than attractive, gorgeous in that pretty kind of way. But Flynn didn’t know him. He didn’t love him.

Which was more unfair, harsh honesty or pretending that he could give Wyatt the love he didn’t feel? He didn’t even know how Wyatt took his coffee, for crying out loud.

At least he didn’t know this Wyatt, didn’t love him. It was easy to create distance.

But Lucy…

Flynn wiped idly at his eyes, not really trying to stop himself from crying but just trying not to make too much of a mess as he did so. He loved her, he loved her more than his own life, and now he had a stranger wearing her face and saying she loved him and…

Was it enough? Was loving each other really going to be enough?

_Five more minutes, Daddy. Okay, two more minutes. One more minute? Please, Daddy? Thirty seconds?_

He’d give anything for thirty more seconds with Iris, in any form.

What about Lucy?

 

* * *

 

Dave was a good soldier, but he was also human, and all humans needed to sleep.

And Wyatt had always been sneakier than anyone else on his team in Delta.

He didn’t pack anything, just made sure he had his gun and his jacket. Flynn’s wedding ring was still around his neck. He decided to keep it—he’d seen Flynn’s double wedding rings and knew one of them had to be for Lucy. He didn’t need this one anymore.

He slipped out of the room and crept quietly down the hall. He’d probably set off the alarm when he got out but he’d done solo missions. He could hide, keep out of sight until he could hitchhike somewhere, anywhere.

He’d just reached the door to the bunker when Rufus stepped in front.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Rufus hissed, bracing his hand against the door to block Wyatt’s way.

As if Rufus could physically stop a paper bag from going somewhere if it wanted to.

“Have you not been paying attention?” Wyatt replied, trying to keep his voice down. “You guys don’t need me. Dave’s a soldier, same with Flynn, they’ll do a good job of protecting you. You and Jiya are the brains, Lucy’s the historian—and I’m not exactly welcome, don’t know if the looks Denise and Flynn were giving me tipped you off or anything. Everybody gets what they want this way.”

“I can’t believe it,” Rufus snapped back. “After all this time, you’re really going to be this selfish?”

“Selfish? What—”

“The only person it’ll be easy for if you leave is you,” Rufus whispered harshly. “Yeah, sure, you’ll have all this manpain from being alone and wandering around in a world where you don’t have a driver’s license but are you thinking for one second about what that would do to Lucy? Huh?”

“She—”

“Has Flynn, yeah, but she chose both of you, you asshole. You abandon her again, after the first time—”

“She doesn’t remember the first time—”

“Well I do, and I remember what it did to her. And yeah, you had every right to try and make things work with Jess, I’m not saying that. But doesn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt for her to watch that. And now you want to do that again? You want to make the same mistake? Lucy’s my friend, Wyatt, I don’t want her hurt like that.

“And what about me? Huh? I remember everything too. You leave and I’ll be the only one and I don’t fancy that. Your romantic angst is fun and all I’m sure but I thought we were friends too. Am I not worth staying around for?”

Rufus’s voice was raw. “You three dance around each other time and time again and I’m not saying it’s easy for you guys but I exist too. And all you can think about is how hurt you are when if you leave—you’ll be hurting Lucy and me. We’re friends, and that means I’m fighting for this friendship even if you seem to have forgotten that it exists.”

Shame coursed through him. Of course. It was—he’d been selfish. “I’m sorry man.”

Rufus sighed. “We’ll work this out, okay?”

Wyatt shook his head. “I—” Fuck, he was crying. “He doesn’t know me and he doesn’t care about knowing me and Denise looks at me like—and Lucy—and Dave, fuck, Dave, he’s alive—”

“It’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep, and in the morning we’ll figure all of this shit out, okay?”

Wyatt nodded. “Okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I neglected to mention! The idea of 'what would happen if a person on the mission was the one who disappeared' was given to me by captainofthefallen. Please do direct all your yelling at her, since that's what inspired me to write this.

Wyatt didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. It had been way too long since he’d slept in a bed by himself, and he missed the feeling of Lucy in his arms and using Flynn’s shoulder as a pillow.

It didn’t help that Dave was across the room and probably still suspicious of him. Not fun to have a roommate who might try to incapacitate you at a moment’s notice.

At five AM, he gave up and got up.

Dave cracked an eye open at him.

“I’m just getting coffee,” Wyatt said, pulling on some clothes. His clothes, the only clothes he had now. A stupid Allied soldier outfit from WWII.

Dave sighed, closing his eyes. “You can have some of my stuff.”

“…thanks, man.”

Wyatt was shorter than Dave, and broader in the shoulders, but it worked well enough. Wyatt wanted to reach out, say something, but it was five in the morning.

Maybe later.

He went out into the common room, only to stop short when he saw who else was there.

Flynn.

Of course, Flynn always got up in the mornings and made coffee for… for the three of them…

Wyatt reached up, feeling the ring around his neck.

He just had to explain things, that was all. He’d explained things to Jess, and she’d understood. They hadn’t worked out in the end but… she’d at least given him a chance.

Wyatt took a deep breath and walked up. “Hey, um… Garcia?”

Flynn arched an eyebrow at him, then poured two cups of coffee. “Yes?”

Wyatt reached down and took the necklace chain off, pulling the ring off of it and holding it out. “This is yours. It matches Lucy’s and mine. I know that… that you don’t remember me but if you would just—just let me explain, I know that we could work this out—”

Flynn stared at him. “Are you… proposing to me?”

“Um… no? Yes? Sort of?”

Flynn looked like he’d had a poisonous snake thrown at his face. “You do realize that we’ve never met here, right?”

“Yes, but—look, this is your ring. Okay? You’re my husband, and I want you to have this. We were in love and I know that if you give me a chance to—”

“I can’t take it,” Flynn said, pushing Wyatt’s hand—and the ring—away. “I won’t, Wyatt, so stop asking.”

“Why? It’s yours—”

“It’s not. Mine,” Flynn snarled.

Wyatt’s heart stopped.

Flynn seemed to realize that his tone was too harsh and he sighed. “Wyatt, I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I’m… a version of the man you love. But I’m not him. I don’t know you. I—I can’t take this because the man who took this is the man who loves you and knows you and I’m—I won’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I love Lucy, and I’m willing to get to know the ways in which she’s different but… I don’t even know who you are. I don’t even know a version of you.”

Flynn took a step back, and the awful part of it was, he really did look terribly apologetic. “I’m sorry. I can’t accept this. I’m not your husband.”

He backed away, until he could turn and walk quickly out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Rufus knocked on the door. “Um, Denise?”

Denise frowned, looking up from her knitting. “Rufus, come in. What’s going on?”

Rufus sat down across from her. “I was hoping that I could talk to you about Wyatt. And I think that you’re already thinking about what to do with him, because you’re knitting.”

“Guilty as charged.” Denise set it aside. “What do you want to say?”

Rufus sighed. “Okay, look. I know that you don’t know him. And I could convince you to keep him with us for a few reasons. He’s another soldier, he can help infiltrate Rittenhouse here while Dave and Flynn go on missions.”

“That would be helpful,” Denise admitted. “The reason you and Lucy had to go alone this time was because I needed Dave to attack the Rittenhouse bunker while we still had their location and Flynn was out of commission, but we couldn’t afford to not follow the Mothership when it jumped.”

“Exactly. If we’d had Wyatt, that wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“Well, you and Lucy do know how to shoot now.”

Rufus frowned. “We—we what?”

“…did Flynn not teach you in your timeline?” Denise asked.

“Ah…” Rufus winced. “Maybe don’t rely on us for that from now on. The point is, I could be logical and I could explain how having Wyatt is a tactical advantage. I could explain how his lack of existence means his ability to survive out in the rest of the world is possibly nil right now. And I could also point out that on our last mission, Emma got away, and so she’ll still remember who Wyatt is and if you send him away he will be captured, and Wyatt’s a tough guy, but nobody can guarantee he won’t somehow be forced or tricked into telling where we are.

“But I’m not going to be logical because I bet you’ve already gone over all of that. So I’m going to remind you that I’m from the same timeline that he is. And in our timeline… he never said it, but he really, really looked up to you. He respected you and I think—I think more than respected.”

“Rufus, Wyatt claims to be married to Lucy and Flynn and I’m a happily married lesbian.”

“I meant, as a parent,” Rufus replied, not letting the joke faze him. “Wyatt’s mom died when he was about five. His dad abused him. And then you came along. You were our leader, you talked us through our problems, you were honestly a lot nicer than you needed to be during the Jess fiasco.”

“The what?”

“Ah… right, Wyatt never married Jess so Rittenhouse never turned her. Um, she’s the reason for a lot of bad things, including my death.”

“You did die,” Denise pointed out. “In Chinatown. We had a hell of a time bringing you back.”

Rufus stared at her for a moment. “Okay, that’s a bit more than I can handle at the moment, we’re putting a pin in that. My point is that whether you guys said it or not, there was a relationship between you two. One that mattered. He was like a son to you and he looked up to you as a mother. You once gave Lucy a flash drive so that you would never forget your family, in any timeline. I don’t have that for you with Wyatt. But I can promise you, if your other self were here, she wouldn’t want you to turn him away. She’d want you to take him in. Get to know him. Be there for him the way you were once before.

“I know that you wouldn’t ever want to forget anyone that you loved. And that’s happened now, and I feel awful about that. I’d never want to forget Jiya, or my mom and Kevin, or Connor, or Lucy and Wyatt and, okay, even Flynn. And if, God forbid, I did forget them, I’d want someone to tell me that they’re worth getting to know again. I’d want someone to tell me stop, wait, this is someone you love.”

Denise stared at him for a long moment.

“If it’s any consolation, you knit him a scarf once?” Rufus added.

Denise gave a small sigh, her shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to forget—and I can only imagine what he’s going through, nearly everyone he loves not recognizing him.” She looked up at Rufus again. “Can I trust him to not do anything stupid?”

For the first time in their conversation, Rufus lied. “Wyatt makes excellent decisions.”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt really didn’t want to face anyone, especially Lucy. He didn’t want to have to tell her that Flynn had officially rejected him. He didn’t know if he could handle letting her down like that.

But when he got back to the bedroom, Dave was there.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Wyatt watched as Dave made his bed. “Still regulation corners, huh?”

Dave paused, watching as Wyatt sat down on his bed. “You really were a soldier.”

“It’s in how I stand, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Mrs. Sherlock Holmes,” Wyatt replied, chuckling when Dave looked confused. “Grace Huddleston?”

Dave’s face cleared. “Oh man, I remember that mission. Rufus went a little crazy and tried to punch everybody.”

“Ah. Yeah.”

“So we knew each other?” Dave asked. “We were in Delta together? We had to be, those were the only guys who called me Bam Bam.”

“Yeah, we were together there.” Wyatt swallowed. “Listen. Bam. I gotta tell you something.” He took a deep breath. “In my timeline, I… I had a wife. She was murdered, and Flynn thought he knew who had done it, so he told me the name of the guy. I couldn’t… we can’t travel on our own timelines. Or we couldn’t at the time. So I couldn’t stop the murder. But I could stop that guy from being born.

“I went back in time and in the process of trying to stop it I—I killed the guy’s father. I didn’t mean to, but I was desperate and angry and stupid and so I did it. And in order to do that I—I stole the Lifeboat. So when I got back I was court marshalled and nearly got Rufus court marshalled too but because I had my gun pointing at him on the video we got him out of it.”

Dave was gaping at him which, fair.

“And then while I was in trouble… Lucy and Rufus were given another soldier to guard them. You.” Wyatt could feel his eyes getting hot and blinked quickly. “You were—you were my best friend in Delta, okay man? So you don’t know me but I just want you to know that so you understand when I say it’s my fault what happened. If I hadn’t been stupid and done that, you wouldn’t have been brought in, and you wouldn’t have gotten shot by—you were shot, by Flynn or one of his men, we don’t know who, and you died. Denise had to lie to your family about what happened. They couldn’t even bury you because… because your body had to be left behind in the 1920s.”

Dave sat down heavily on the bed.

“It’s my fault you died,” Wyatt repeated, his voice cracking. “I was selfish, and I didn’t just kill that man, I killed you too because you were in my place. And I wasn’t even there.”

Dave stared at him for a long moment.

“We were friends,” Wyatt said. “And I just—I wanted you to know that. Flynn’s not letting me tell him anything and before you shut me down too I wanted to tell you what happened.”

Dave nodded slowly. “That’s… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah I kind of word vomited on you. But you were always honest with me and you were a good guy and one of the few people I was still friends with after I officially left Delta. You were there for me when Jess died. And I—I wanted you to know the truth. Because I’ve spent the past year or so feeling like shit for it and now that I’ve been given a chance to apologize… I’d like to do that.”

Dave ran a hand through his hair. “You… can I be honest?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you apologizing for me or for yourself?”

Wyatt stared at him. “What?”

Dave walked over and sat next to him. “Okay. So I believe you when you say we were friends. And you seem like a decent guy. So I’m going to talk to you the way I’d talk to any of my other friends. I didn’t know any of that about my other life, and it doesn’t affect me too much one way or another if I know or don’t. What I experience in this life is what matters to me, because otherwise it’s just this… this damn rabbit hole of hey, what if I didn’t go into Delta, what about this, what if that. Y’know? So the only person I can see it really benefiting for you to apologize is yourself. It gets the guilt off of your back.”

Wyatt’s stomach sank. Just when he’d thought he couldn’t feel any worse.

“I don’t mean to get you down,” Dave went on. “But if you’re going to make it in this new timeline, you can’t use it as a chance to make yourself feel better and patting yourself on the back. This is a new start for everyone else, and you have to treat your relationships with them that way. Ask me to grab a beer and watch the game with you or ask if you can spar with me on the mat. Because dumping a bunch of facts and apologies on them, I don’t see how that benefits them or strengthens their relationship with you.”

Wyatt looked down at his hands. Dave’s life was definitely better without him. Flynn didn’t care one way or another about Wyatt. Could it be that everyone’s lives were better without him? Hell, even Jess…

Jess!

 

* * *

 

Lucy marched right into Flynn’s room and closed the door. “It doesn’t matter if I’m not the same Lucy you knew. It doesn’t matter if there are some differences. You blew up the goddamn Hindenburg, you got Rufus shot, you trapped Rufus and Wyatt in a _literal_ house of death, and you got mad at me for stopping you from shooting a kid. We worked through it and I know that no matter what you’ve done differently this time, if we could get together after that, we can get together again.

“I love you and I’m choosing to love you and I will do what it takes to earn that love again. If that means we start over and go back to watching movies together in silence then I’m okay with that. I can go back to step one. But I won’t let you give up on me and on us.”

Her chest was heaving as Flynn stared at her for a long moment. When he at last spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“I’m sorry. I was too harsh with you and I—you’re right. You’re still Lucy and if that means we have to get to know each other again a bit then that’s fine. I would give anything for more time with my family, and you’re my family too. I want to be with you. And if that means a little adjusting then that’s… that’s fine with me.”

Lucy let out a sob and clapped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to get emotional like this, she wanted to be firm but rational and not blubber—

The sob seemed to jerk Flynn to life and he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms where Lucy could cry into his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered roughly. “I love you so much. We’ll—we’ll find a way to belong to each other again. I forgot—I thought only about losing the version of you that I knew, I didn’t think about you losing the version of me that you knew. We’ll figure it out, Lucy. We’ll figure it out.”

Lucy knew it was stupid, that it was moving too quickly, but she yanked him down and kissed him. Flynn was stiff for a moment, clearly surprised, but then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, lifting her off her feet, and Lucy clung to him with all of her might.

She might never let him go again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jiya?” Wyatt asked, walking up as Jiya sat on her computer. “Could you look up one more person for me?”

“Sure.” Jiya pulled up some search options.

“Her name is Jessica Moore.” Wyatt gave her hometown and birth date.

He didn’t know what he hoped for in the results. He wanted Jess to be okay, he knew that much. But beyond that…

“Ah, here she is. She’s okay.” Jiya pointed, showing Wyatt Jess’s Facebook profile. “She went to Stanford, in fact, and married a lawyer she met there. She lives in San Francisco.”

“She’s alive?”

“Yup, alive and happy, apparently, if her Facebook photos are anything to go by.”

She did look happy in those pictures. Smiling, swimming in the ocean or at lunch with friends, at her wedding with her admittedly handsome husband.

He hated how looking at her still, in some ways, felt like home because she had been home for so long, and a part of him still wanted to go to her for answers.

…actually…

 

* * *

 

“Here.”

Lucy plopped the photo album into his lap.

Flynn frowned. “What’s this?”

“We keep it in the Lifeboat. There’s two of them—one for everyone that Rufus keeps taped underneath his seat, and this one that I keep taped underneath mine. It’s not a flash drive but… I don’t know I think we like tangible things.”

Lucy opened the album.

“You don’t have to love Wyatt. I’m not asking that. I’m just trying to show you why I love both of you, because we’re a package deal. You can just share me with Wyatt and you don’t have to do anything with him or be with him in any way. But if we’re going to do this, then I think it’s fair to you that you understand where I’m coming from, so that we have complete honesty.”

Flynn leaned in, cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. “Sounds good to me.”

He could feel Lucy smile against his mouth. He was going to find a way to make this work, dammit, even if there was another person he had to share her with. Bringing the photo album was proof enough that she wasn’t going to have any secrets, that she wasn’t going to play favorites.

She flipped through the album, showing him the photos. There were a lot of the three of them in various combinations. Quite a few were of Lucy in Flynn’s arms, obviously having jumped up into them. He couldn’t help but smile at those.

Flynn noticed something at the back, though. “Those aren’t pictures.”

Lucy swallowed, looking nervous. “Ah. Those are…”

Flynn flipped to them.

They were handwritten pieces of paper, one from each of them to the other.

“They’re our… our wedding vows,” Lucy said quietly.

She curled up into his side, the way she always did, and Flynn knew it was opening a can of worms but he wanted to know more.

“We read these out loud together on our picnic,” Lucy explained. “Because we couldn’t really do a ceremony and we didn’t want to. It was a day just for us. We’re a bit…” She blushed. “…wild when it comes to the bedroom but we don’t really do PDA and we don’t like to shout it out to the world. It’s precious to us and so we just keep things between us three. So we just… read these. Although later on we showed them to everyone else so they could see.”

Flynn read the papers, his heart hammering.

The first was Lucy’s.

 

_To Wyatt,_

_You were my safe place in a time when I was starting to unlearn myself. You were the warm hug when I was cold and alone. You were the push when I was too hesitant. You let me be vulnerable and you understood when I was unsure. You are my human blanket at night. I love how you blush when I compliment you, and how you can’t stand mornings, and how you trust that where we lead, you will follow._

_I promise to call you out on your bullshit when you’re being a possessive asshole. I promise to call you sweetheart to remind you that it’s okay to be soft. I promise to fill in the blanks when you want something but don’t know how to ask for it. I promise to remind you of all the ways you are succeeding because you often don’t see it yourself. I promise to kiss you even when you haven’t brushed your teeth._

_I promise to always be your family._

_To Flynn,_

_You became the person that I trust beyond measure. The person I could talk to without saying a word. The person who picked me up when I was down and held me when I fell apart. You let me be angry, you let me be hard, you reminded me of all that I was and all that I could be. You built me up when I was at my lowest point and you never pushed for anything more than I could give, even when you deserved it._

_I promise to pull you back from the brink when you’re going into a bad place in your head. I promise to remember to thank you for the coffee. I promise to help you release when you’re wound up. I promise to only sometimes make you reach for things on the top shelf. I promise to someday learn Croatian. I promise to hold you even when you feel you don’t deserve it. I promise to love you until it hurts and then love you some more._

_I promise you won’t lose me._

It was different from the vows that Flynn remembered. He and Lucy had said theirs out loud, in front of everyone else: Amy, Mason, Jiya, Rufus, and Dave. Denise had officiated. Denise’s mom had made food for everyone for Denise to bring to the bunker. But these were… they were sweet, and they sounded very much like the Lucy that he knew. Those were all things he could hear her saying to him.

 

Next was Wyatt’s.

 

_To Lucy,_

_You gave me a second chance after I screwed everything up the ass and I’ll spend the rest of my stupid life making it up to you. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. But you’re not perfect, something that I had to remind myself after I realized I’d put you up on a pedestal._

_Okay, after Jess told me I’d put you up on a pedestal. So here is what I promise:_

_You’re loyal to a fault, so I promise to remind you to look after yourself and what you want._

_You’re insanely smart, so I promise to keep you humble._

_You’re extremely dedicated, so I promise to make you get some sleep._

_You’ve got a great fashion sense, so I promise to remind you that you’re beautiful._

_You’re a good leader, so I promise to try and follow your orders._

_You make mistakes, so I promise to forgive you for them._

_I will open all the doors, drive the cars, shoot the bad guys, and never make dinner so you don’t have to worry about my setting the house on fire. I will not repeat my past mistakes. I’ll listen to you, and I’ll learn, and I’ll keep trying to be the person that you deserve. Because you are the best, and you deserve the best._

_I promise, you will never, ever lose me. You have me. You always have and always will._

_I love you, baby doll._

_To Flynn,_

_You were such. A goddamn asshole. Do you have any idea how many times I imagined punching you in the face?_

_I hope you also know that if anyone else called you an asshole, I’d punch them in the face. You were a hell of a lot more patient with me than I was with you and you were reaching out and trying even when I was still too damn angry to listen. I promise that from now on I’ll listen._

_I thought that you knew exactly what you were doing and that you didn’t give a damn about the consequences. I know better now. So I promise to read between the lines and be there when you’re doubting._

_I thought you were the kind of person who would rejoice when I was weak or unsure, and that I couldn’t feel safe around you. Now I promise to always tell you when I’m upset, and to let you make it better, and to remind you how safe you make me feel._

_I thought that you were selfish. Now I know how selfless you are and I’ll do everything to give back to you as much as you give to Lucy and me. I’ll remind you that you deserve good things._

_I know I’m not an easy person to love. And sometimes I don’t know why you do. But even though sometimes I still panic when people see you touching me and even though sometimes I lash out I promise that you’re one of the best things that’s happened to me and I don’t always say it but I’m always thinking it:_

_I love you, and I’ll always love you._

Flynn stared down at the paper. From what Wyatt had written, it sounded like the two of them had gotten off to a rough start. It also sounded like maybe Wyatt had some internalized homophobia, or something along those lines.

But he’d overcome all of that. Because he loved Flynn.

It had been enough of a wonder to him that one person, after all that he had done, had come to love him. How could he have earned two people?

A part of him wanted to shove the album away from him, but he made himself look at the final paper.

His paper.

It was his—his own handwriting. He now understood how Lucy must have felt when she’d read her journal. Seeing something and knowing that you had written it, that it was filled with little handwriting quirks and turns of phrase that nobody else could have pulled off… but having no memory of writing it. Knowing that you simultaneously wrote and didn’t write it. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

But he read it. He had to know.

 

_To Lucy,_

_I’m not good with words. As you well know. Sometimes I hope that when I kiss you, you’ll hear all the things I can’t figure out how to say. Not in any language. Because I can’t even begin to explain what you are to me. I could say all the usual things. Things I’ve said before. And will say again. But it all seems inadequate, words are inadequate, when it comes to telling you how much you mean to me and how much I adore you._

_You never gave up on me. I believed in what I was doing but I didn’t believe in myself and you saw otherwise. You stood up to me when I needed it and you gave me the privilege of being there for you when you needed it. I can only hope that you can feel the way that I love you because I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you._

_You are my light, you are my redemption, you are everything, Lucy. You will always be everything. I don’t care what time tries to do. I would find you, over every timeline. You are the reason I’m here, in every sense. I love you._

It was, oddly enough, very similar to his vows that he remembered giving her in this timeline, the timeline that he knew. Perhaps some things were universal, as Jiya had said.

Then there was what he’d written for Wyatt.

 

_To Wyatt,_

_I don’t care how many times I have to say it. I love you. I love you and I’ll keep telling it to you until you believe it. You used to drive me nuts with how you would refuse to see how alike we were. How we could support each other. I know that I had to earn the right for you to open up to me and lean on me and now that you do I’m not going to drop you. You are always safe with me. I promise that whatever is said between us stays between us. However private or public you want to be, I promise I will be okay with it. I promise to take charge because that’s what you prefer but I will always make sure that you know you have a right to choose differently and to disagree with me._

_You demand the best in me just as Lucy does and you put your faith and trust in me. I don’t know if you know what an honor that is. How it humbles me. I will do everything to be worthy of it. Including reminding you that you aren’t broken. You’re perfect, and you’re perfect for us. You’re not extra. You’re necessary. You will be necessary to my happiness for the rest of my life._

Flynn stared. _You will be necessary to my happiness for the rest of my life._

That was not a simple declaration of affection. It was a bold and unyielding statement, and Flynn could feel his heart stuttering just reading it. If he had read that and not known that it was his writing, he would have thought, _that is a man truly in love_.

But it was his writing. He had said that to Wyatt.

This person that he didn’t know.

Or, rather, this person that he was refusing to know.

He realized that his eyes were stinging and getting blurry and he wiped at them hastily. Beside him, he heard Lucy give a wet laugh.

“It really gets you, doesn’t it?” she asked. “I read them from time to time. When one of you is hurt. You two get hurt the most, since you’re the soldiers and put yourselves on the front line.”

Flynn nodded. “I… you know this doesn’t… magically make everything better.”

“I’m not asking it to,” Lucy replied. “I just want you to understand why—where I’m coming from and why I love him and that I still love you, just as much, so much.”

Flynn honestly felt bad for Wyatt now. A version of Flynn had written those words to Wyatt, had said words like ‘always’, and now he didn’t even know the guy.

It had to hurt.

“It’s just that I don’t even know him.”

“No, Flynn. You guys have known each other a really long time.”

The soft conviction in Lucy’s voice, her complete faith, made his heart ache.

“Well, I’m willing to share you. It’s not… what I pictured, but I love you and I trust you.”

Lucy carefully set the album aside so that she could throw her arms around him and kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Flynn hugged her tightly. “I’d do anything for you.”

A blaring sound filled the bunker.

“Front door alarm!” Mason yelled as he ran past, banging on everyone’s doors. “Front door alarm!”

“Shit.” Flynn grabbed his gun. “Lucy, get Amy and head to the Lifeboat.” They could be under attack.

Flynn met Dave in the hallway. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, you?”

Flynn nodded, showing his gun.

They crept through the hallways together. The alarm kept blaring, but Flynn couldn’t hear any movement. No knockout gas or flash grenades were thrown. There was nothing.

Then they got to the front door.

The door to the bunker was wide open, but no one was there.

“Guys!” Jiya ran up to them, out of breath. “It’s Wyatt—it’s Wyatt, he’s broken out, and I know where he’s going.”

Well, shit.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing he did when he got out of the bunker was find a car and hotwire it.

It was easy enough. He’d found he had to get back into the practice of hotwiring cars while on missions, so he just picked a random sedan, the kind that blended in easily.

The second thing he did was drive.

Jess’s Facebook page had listed where she worked. He would be able to find that easily enough, even though he no longer had a smart phone with a maps app.

He was going to be in so much trouble when he got back. He knew that. But he had to see her. He had to talk to her.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that Jess had apparently gone to the same college where Lucy now taught—or had taught until recently. Jess hadn’t even gone to college in his timeline. She’d been a bartender.

But Stanford? That was a hell of a school. One of the best, one of the mythical ones that he and his classmates growing up had known they couldn’t get into.

Had Jess held herself back for him, in his timeline? Had he been what stopped her from going to an amazing college? He had inadvertently messed up her life more than he’d even realized?

He parked the car across the street, ready to go into the lobby and ask about her—when luck was on his side.

She was exiting the building.

Wyatt took a deep breath and got out, watching as Jess crossed the street, then following behind as she started to walk down it. He didn’t want to just… grab her. He could maybe get behind her in line at a coffee shop or something?

She turned the corner and went to a little café. Another woman stood up and waved at her, smiling, hugging when Jess got to her.

She was meeting a friend for lunch.

Wyatt watched as Jess sat down and looked at the menu, laughing at something her friend said. She looked happy. She had a normal life, a life away from Wyatt’s insanity and from Rittenhouse. She wasn’t under anyone’s control. She was successful, she had a husband she loved…

He shook himself. What the hell was he doing, thinking of talking to her? What could he say to her? She wouldn’t believe him, she’d think he was crazy.

He watched as Jess said something to her friend, excusing herself and getting up. Probably to go to the bathroom or something. If he was going to talk to her, this was his chance.

Part of him wanted to go up and just ask her, “Are you happy?”

But the rest of him knew that she’d probably just be creeped out. That sounded like the beginning of a horror film, a random guy coming up and asking if she was happy.

He turned and started to walk back to the car. He’d seen her, he had confirmation she was in a good life—a better life than the one she’d had when he existed. His lack of existence had basically guaranteed that she was happy and alive and successful.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

“Hey.”

Wyatt turned around.

Jess was frowning at him, arms folded. “Care to explain why you’re following me?”

Oh, shit.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Flynn snapped. “He’s going after his ex-wife?”

He wanted to punch a wall. Wyatt Logan had made a big fuss about being married to Flynn and Lucy, about being in love with them, and now he was going to run after his ex? What the hell was that about?

Flynn glanced over at Lucy. She looked upset, but not like she was heartbroken or jealous.

“In our timeline, Wyatt went through a lot with Jess,” Lucy said quietly. “She wasn’t always… in a good place. It makes sense that he’d want to check up on her.”

“Don’t make it completely altruistic,” Rufus said, folding his arms. “She’s his security blanket. Look, Wyatt had an abusive childhood, okay? Shit dad, mom died when he was young. He turned to bootlegging to survive after he ran away from home and then he enrolled in the army and the only thing he ever had, through all of that, was Jess.

“Now he’s lost everything all over again and so he’s going back to her like a homing pigeon because that’s his instinct, he spent more of his life with her than without her, and while he’s not in love with her anymore there’s that part of him that just… feels like he needs to have her in his life.”

Rufus looked over at Lucy. “Sorry,” he said, and he really did sound apologetic.

“Jesus Christ,” Flynn said, not caring who all heard. “How many issues does this guy have?”

Lucy glared at him. “That’s my other husband you’re talking about,” she hissed.

“Your other husband who just cocked things up royally,” Flynn replied. “Can you say codependent? I’ve got a right to criticize him when he’s this phenomenally stupid.”

Lucy opened her mouth, closed it, huffed, then said, “All right yes he’s being incredibly stupid but could you not be so condescending?”

“Okay…” Denise said slowly, like she could sense the beginnings of a Lucy-Flynn spat and didn’t fancy being in the middle of that. Flynn loved Lucy more than his own life, more than anything in the world, but they were both stubborn people and he could easily see Wyatt—and Wyatt’s behavior—becoming a reason they clashed.

If Lucy wanted to be with Wyatt too then that was fine. Flynn would make do. But he wasn’t going to let Lucy settle for someone who was an idiot who ran off at the first opportunity to a woman who didn’t even know who he was anymore.

“Someone has to go after him,” Denise announced. “God help us if he does something that gets the attention of the police. He has no records, nothing, that’ll send up a host of red flags and I don’t fancy having to pull strings to get him back to us. Emma still knows who he is, and if she finds out he’s on the run she’ll go after him. She could even be after Jess right now, if she knows how valuable she is to Wyatt.”

“She knows,” Rufus intoned.

“I can go,” Dave volunteered.

Denise shook her head. “You’re compromised. You weren’t supposed to let him out of your sight. Flynn will go.”

“Why not both of us?” Flynn asked. He didn’t want to be alone with Wyatt. He might strangle the guy.

“I need as little noise on this as possible, and I need a soldier here in case the alarm goes off,” Denise replied. “I know you’re not pleased with this, but that’s my final decision.”

Flynn held in his sigh. Fine. Get to Wyatt, retrieve him, try not to punch him along the way.

Lucy grabbed his wrist as he started to head out. “Garcia.”

He turned and looked at her.

“He’s lost,” she said quietly. “That’s all. Imagine if nobody remembered you.”

“I’ll give him that,” Flynn admitted. “But while we can’t control what happens to us we can control how we handle it.”

Lucy arched an eyebrow. “Says the man who kidnapped me and stuck Dave and Rufus in a literal murder hotel and then got Rufus shot by Al Capone.”

Okay, fair point. “She won’t even know who he is, Lucy.”

“I know, I know, I just—I’m not letting him off easy, trust me on that. Just try and understand, please?”

Flynn sighed. “I’ll try.”

Lucy let go of his wrist, putting her hands on his chest for balance as she got up on her tiptoes to kiss him. That’s how his Lucy had kissed him before, as well. It felt like every little thing she did merged the two together in his mind, especially when she brought up events like the trip to the Chicago World’s Fair. In her timeline it had been Wyatt and Rufus, but other than that, everything had matched up. There were fewer differences between them than he’d feared, and he couldn’t help but think Lucy was doing in on purpose, to remind him that she was still his Lucy, the Lucy he loved.

He couldn’t help but be grateful for it. Wyatt Logan was enough of a monkey wrench.

Lucy pulled away, her eyes slowly opening. “Stay safe.”

“I’ll bring him back.” Wyatt was important to Lucy, and at the end of the day that meant Flynn would do whatever it took to keep him safe, if only to make Lucy happy. “I promise.”

Time to go fetch the loose cannon.

 

* * *

 

“Well?” Jess asked. “Are you a regular stalker or a private investigator or did you just _have_ to tell me how pretty I was and that I should really smile more?”

“Uh…” Wyatt swallowed. God, he just wanted to hug her and cry and tell her everything. “No, no, I’m sorry—I thought you were someone I knew—an old, um, friend, and I—I was wrong, I’m so sorry—”

That was when the bullet winged past his head.

“Shit!” He grabbed Jess and yanked her down behind a car.

“Are we being shot at?” Jess hissed.

“Yup, my fault, long story,” Wyatt said. He peered over the edge of the car and caught a glimpse of red hair.

Emma. Shit.

“Look, this better not be the beginning of a Dean Koontz novel or something,” Jess said. “I’m married and I don’t fancy running around after you while you try to clear your good name with the CIA.”

“Trust me, these people aren’t CIA.”

“Who are they?”

“Um…”

Shit, he should’ve brought a gun, he should’ve brought a gun… although how he would’ve gotten his hands on one, he wasn’t sure.

“Look, all you need to know is that they’re after me, they’re not nice people, and I’m so sorry I got you messed up in this.”

“I suppose they think I’m with you, now.”

“Unfortunately.”

The gunfire ceased for a moment and Wyatt scrambled for an idea. They could duck down the alley, try to lose Emma in the winding streets of San Francisco, then drop Jess off somewhere, ask that she go on vacation…

“You are a massive idiot, did you know that?”

Wyatt jumped a mile as a firm hand landed on his back and Flynn’s voice came thick and frustrated in his ear. “Jesus Christ.”

“Who the hell are you?” Jess demanded.

“Jess, this is Flynn. Flynn, Jess.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name if you mistook me for someone else?”

Oh, fuck. “You also have the same name?”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Flynn said. He stood and returned fire. “And you’ve got Emma on your tail too, fantastic.”

“In my defense I think she was coming after Jess already.” The moment she realized what happened and Wyatt didn’t exist in this timeline, she must’ve decided to nab Jess to make the situation even nastier.

“We need to get you out of here,” Flynn said, although Wyatt wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or to Jess. “They’re shifting positions, let’s go.”

Wyatt followed Flynn, shielding Jess as they ran. A couple of bullets were fired at them but they managed to get around the corner and down an alley. “Why the hell are you here?” Wyatt asked. Out of all people, he didn’t expect Flynn to come after him.

“Denise sent me,” Flynn said sourly, making his feelings on the matter clear.

“Would somebody tell me, honestly, what’s going on?” Jess demanded. “I have a lunch I’m supposed to be at and if my husband and I are in danger I’d like to know!”

As Flynn led them down the alley, through a restaurant, and into a parking lot, Wyatt tried to explain.

“…and so now here we are,” he finished.

Jess stared at him. “You know it sounds like you broke out of an insane asylum,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, we’re well aware,” Flynn said, scanning the area. “Okay, the car’s this way. We can drop you back off at home, Jessica, but I recommend you and your husband go on a long vacation. Pick somewhere random, then don’t go on that flight. When you get to the airport, get there a few hours early and pick a different flight somewhere else. Tell coworkers and friends it was a family emergency. Couple weeks should be fine. I don’t think Emma will be determined enough to keep after you beyond that, she’s got too much on her plate and bigger fish to fry.”

“Sure,” Jess said sarcastically. “I’ll just drop everything and leave on a vacation that’s really an attempt to get away from the people trying to kill me for no good reason because my alternate-universe husband pissed them off.”

“So you believe me?” Wyatt asked.

“No I don’t believe you!” Jess replied. “But you believe that what you’re saying is true, and there are definitely people shooting at me, and he seems to know his spy stuff.” She indicated Flynn. “So I’m inclined to listen to him when he says hey, get out of the country for a couple weeks.”

“I’ll go ahead and draw any fire,” Flynn said. “You good to keep her covered?”

Wyatt nodded, and Flynn pulled out a second gun from… somewhere, Flynn tended to stuff guns everywhere from an actual holster to inside his damn boots… and handed it to Wyatt.

“Be careful,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, the words too instinctive at this point.

Flynn stared at him oddly, and then nodded and ducked around the car.

Wyatt looked over at Jess. “You’ve got to go, now. Make up whatever excuse to your husband. And I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Unless Emma followed you all the way from wherever your bunker is, it sounds to me like she was going to come for me whether you came here or not,” Jess pointed out. “So thank you, and thank Flynn, for helping me.”

“You wouldn’t be in danger if it wasn’t for me,” Wyatt protested. “Because she knows—she knows I still care about you. Even if I’m not in love with you anymore.”

Jess sighed, putting her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes were warm and crinkled at the edges, and she had that sympathetic almost-smile on her face that he knew so well, it was like a gut punch. For a second, she looked just like his Jess, the one who’d forgiven him again and again, even when she shouldn’t have.

“Look, if what you’re saying is true? Then it sounds to me like this is a really good chance for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got so much you’re holding onto. Your mistakes. Me. This is a clean slate. A chance to do it all over again, and do it better. How many people get to do that, Wyatt? How many people get to go back to the start and get to become friends with people again, get to make their spouses fall in love with them all over again, without the mistakes this time?”

That—that wasn’t how Wyatt had thought about it at all. It was a view he hadn’t even considered.

Jess squeezed his shoulders gently. “You can woo him all over again. You can be with Lucy all over again. You can become friends with Dave all over again. I’m happy and I’m safe—or, well, I’m going to be safe—and you said that’s what you want. This is your chance. Those ways you fucked up? They’re gone.”

“But I still did them. I still remember them.”

“Well, then it sounds to me like the only person whose forgiveness you have to earn is your own.”

Wyatt swore the world tilted sideways.

Jess smiled gently, then leaned in and hugged him. “Just think about it,” she whispered.

Wyatt let himself hug her back, squeezing tightly, burying his nose into her hair. Finally saying goodbye.

And then he let go.

 

* * *

 

They dropped Jess off at her home, where she promised that she’d get her husband’s gun out of the safe and keep it on her while she waited for him to get home, and that she’d get him to go on vacation with her.

Flynn wanted to slump against the seat with relief. Too many times, innocent people were caught in the crossfire. And while he didn’t approve of Wyatt going and stalking the woman who’d been his wife in another timeline, it had worked out that they’d been on site to protect her from Emma.

And so he patiently waited until they were on the highway back to the bunker before reading Wyatt the riot act.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” He burst out.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you have any idea how fucking stupid that was? You’re damn lucky you were getting shot at, and I can’t believe I’m saying that—do you know how deep you would’ve been buried by the government if you got arrested and the police realized you don’t exist on paper? Do you know how many agencies would’ve been interrogating you? Because I’ve been a spy, Wyatt, I _know_ , and if you’re really Delta Force then you probably have a pretty good idea yourself. Denise would have been lucky to get you out.”

“I know.”

“And do you have any clue what Lucy’s going through? You’re lucky she’s so damn in love with you or I would’ve just left you for Emma, you walked right into that trap—she knew what your weakness was and she had you pegged and you played, right into her hands!” Flynn forced himself to relax his hands on the steering wheel.

“Lucy loves you, and it’s for her sake that I’m bringing you back. Not for Denise’s orders, not even for Rufus, and not for you. For Lucy. So when we get back you better be damn grateful to her because for some reason she’s in love with your sorry ass, and I won’t let you mess that up for her. Are we clear?”

He glanced to the side and saw Wyatt nodding.

“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said. His voice was quiet, subdued. “I—you were right, it was selfish and it was stupid.”

“If anything had happened to you it would gut Lucy,” Flynn said.

Wyatt nodded again. “I know,” he whispered. “I know—you probably think I don’t deserve her and most of the time I don’t think I do but I promise, I know she loves me. And I love her, I’m—I’m so in love with her, and I promise I won’t—I won’t be that selfish again. I promise.”

Flynn sighed. Lucy had asked him to try and understand. To be compassionate. “Look, I get this is probably hard for you. But we’re a team in that bunker. We need you to be a part of that team to. You have to think about others, okay? Especially your significant other. You might not exist in this timeline but she jumped timelines too.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt swallowed. “I—I don’t have anything else to day, just, I know it was stupid and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry you had to be sent after me.”

Silence fell. Flynn didn’t want to keep lecturing the guy when his point seemed to have been made, but there wasn’t much else to say.

He was just thinking of turning on the radio when Wyatt asked, “So where are you from?”

Flynn nearly swerved the car when he glanced over at Wyatt in shock. “Sorry—you were married to me and you didn’t know here I was from?”

“I know where you’re from, wiseass,” Wyatt replied. “But you made it pretty damn clear that you don’t know me and that I don’t know you. That you’re not the same person I… I’m in love with.”

It was the first time Wyatt had said that out loud. He’d said married, he’d said they were together, but this was the first time Wyatt was admitting that he was in love with him. Or with the Flynn he’d known.

“So, if I don’t know you, then…” Wyatt shrugged. “This is me getting to know you. And let me tell you the first thing I wanted to know when I met you besides why the hell you were blowing up airships was where that accent was from.”

Flynn found himself chuckling in spite of himself. Most people wanted to know about the accent but few were bold enough to ask. He’d gotten used to just saying, to spare the awkward looks on their faces.

“Croatia.”

“But your last name is Flynn.”

“My father changed his last name. He spent a lot of time international before coming back to Zagreb. He thought it would help him out, having a name that was easy to spell and say.” That was really all he had to tell Wyatt to answer the question, but for some reason he kept going. “He went back to Croatia after he met my mother. He wanted her to meet my grandmother and settle down in his hometown, raise a family.”

“What was your mom like?”

“You know I’m not just going to start spilling my guts out to you, right?” Flynn told him. “We’re not just going to have this big talk about families and bond.”

Wyatt snorted with laughter.

“What.”

Wyatt just kept laughing, shaking his head.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” Wyatt pressed his fist to his mouth to try and smother his laughter. “Okay, in my timeline… did you go after the missing Watergate tapes?”

“Yes.” Lucy had brilliantly played him and Rittenhouse, sending them after each other. He’d known she was intelligent but that—that had proved it. He’d been impressed in spite of himself.

“Well in my timeline, you sent Lucy and Rufus to get the Doc—which we learned was a person—and you kept me behind as collateral. You said you’d kill me if they didn’t bring the goods in time. While we were there together, you said you knew me. You quoted things about me that Lucy had written in her journal about me. You knew about Jess, about my military history. You tried to convince me that we weren’t that different.” Wyatt paused, and Flynn suddenly knew, with an awful swoop in his gut, what Wyatt was going to say before the words were actually voiced.

“You told me about Lorena and Iris,” Wyatt said at last, his voice low. “About—about the night they died.”

Flynn forced himself to keep looking at the road. Forced himself to keep breathing.

“It just strikes me that… the shoe’s very much on the other foot now,” Wyatt went on. “Now I’m the one trying to convince you to like me, instead of the other way around.”

“Did I convince you?” Flynn found himself asking.

“Hell no. I was a stubborn ass who wouldn’t listen.” Wyatt sighed. “Story of our relationship,” he added in a much quieter voice.

Flynn didn’t know what to say to that. He felt wrong footed, like he was walking by putting his feet in the indents made by a man who’d walked before him.

“My point is you weren’t all that smooth when we first met, and that you’ve got a right to be upset with me but I want to get to know you. I’m willing to go with the idea that I don’t know anything about you, that you’re different from the man I—that—that I love, but I need you to work with me too. I want to at least be your friend.”

Flynn honestly didn’t know why anyone would want to be his friend, but all right. “You seem to have trouble saying that,” he noted.

“Saying what?”

“That you’re in love with me. Or the alternate timeline version of me.”

Wyatt swallowed hard and looked out the window. “I grew up in a small town in Texas with a dad who had only two words for gay people: fairy and faggot. The army wasn’t much better. I’ve… you… you’ve helped me get better about it. But it’s still hard to get the words out, sometimes. Even if I feel it.” He shrugged, still gazing out at the horizon. “Sometimes I feel it so much it’s like I’m choking on it.”

Under most circumstances, Flynn would have said something to comfort Wyatt. He knew what it was like to lose a spouse, after all. But he was the person that Wyatt had lost. How did that even begin to work?

“We can be friends,” he said instead. “That’s something we can do. But first I need you to promise me that you’ll never do anything that stupid ever again.”

Wyatt glanced over at him, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a half smile that made him look like a mischievous puppy. Flynn told himself it wasn’t cute. “I can live with that condition.”

Flynn focused back in on the driving. He didn’t fancy being Wyatt. He’d done stupid things before and Lucy had always made sure he got a piece of her mind. He had no doubt she was going to do the same thing to Wyatt when they got back.

He couldn’t help but glance over and see the outline of the ring underneath Wyatt’s shirt, still hanging from its necklace chain. His wedding ring. The one that Wyatt’s Flynn had worn.

If nothing else, he could feel bad about that.

At least Lorena wasn’t a ghost that he could see.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucy launched herself at him the moment they walked into the bunker and Wyatt honestly thought she was going to slap him, but then she was just wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder, her chest heaving.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she ordered. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“We ran into Emma,” Flynn said as Wyatt hugged Lucy back, burying his nose into her hair and breathing her in. “She was after Jess to get at Wyatt. Jess is safe, now.”

“I’m sorry,” Wyatt whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Never_ again,” Lucy replied, her voice wobbling. “Never, never.”

“Wyatt?” It was Denise. “Lucy, I need to speak to him. Alone.”

Oh, fuck.

Lucy turned to look at Denise but kept clinging to Wyatt. “Please don’t kick him out.”

Denise sighed. “I’m not kicking him out, Lucy. If only because we can’t. He has no legal presence in the world and Emma would be after him in a heartbeat.”

Lucy didn’t loosen her grip. Denise raised an eyebrow. “Lucy. He’ll be fine.”

“Come on,” Flynn said quietly, gently tugging on Lucy’s elbow.

Lucy kissed Wyatt’s cheek, right by his ear. “We’re talking later,” she warned him.

“Yes ma’am.”

Lucy finally let go and stepped back, turning to feel Flynn over for bullet wounds. Flynn’s hands settled on Lucy’s hips and he tipped his forehead towards her, murmuring in French so that he could soothe her without anyone else understanding what he was saying. Lucy’s hands stilled on his chest and she let him pull her in, nodding against his forehead, her eyes closed as they made their own little bubble.

It made Wyatt’s stomach twist and his lungs seem to collapse so that he couldn’t get air in. Lucy and Flynn had their private moments. So did he and Lucy, and so did he and Flynn. But that was different from this. This was something that he would never be a part of.

God he just wanted to disappear into the floor.

“Sergeant Logan,” Denise said. He supposed that he should be grateful that she was calling him by his rank instead of just ‘mister’. “With me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The word stuck in his throat. He knew it wasn’t her fault for speaking to him so impersonally. She had every right to. That didn’t mean it was fun to hear her talk to him like that.

Wyatt followed Denise into the main room. He could hear everyone else scuttling off places. Amy was dragging Lucy off somewhere, Rufus and Mason were going to Mason’s room, Jiya hadn’t even bothered coming out to see what was up, and it looked like Bam Bam was having a quiet talk with Flynn—and didn’t that hurt, his resurrected former best friend and his husband, both closer to each other than they were to him.

 _Stop the self-pity_ , a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Flynn told him.

Denise stopped at the kitchen table, her fingers lightly tapping against the tabletop. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how irresponsible that was.”

“No, ma’am.”

Denise sighed, throwing her gaze up to the ceiling. “Denise will be just fine, Wyatt, you can stop with the ma’am.”

“Yes—Denise.”

“Good. Now.” She looked him in the eye. “I could lecture you about how unbelievably stupid that was, but I think you’ve probably done a good job of figuring that out yourself. And I have no doubt that Flynn gave you his own uncensored opinion.”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t safe out there. If you get into any kind of legal trouble, it’ll take a lot of strings pulled to keep you safe, favors called in, and I’d rather not use those if I don’t have to.”

Wyatt snorted, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. “Just like when we time travel, then.”

When they traveled, they didn’t legally exist in those times either. Of course lucky for them the ability to search for a person was a lot harder the further back in time you went, but still.

Denise nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

He nodded shortly, looking back up at her. “So. You’re… going to transfer me somewhere? You can’t just let me walk, you just said as much. Gonna stick me on a base somewhere? Take me out of the country?”

Denise stared at him like he’d told her he could grow a second head if he wanted to. “No. I’m letting you know that behavior like that won’t be tolerated a second time.”

Wyatt blinked, unsure if he’d heard that right. “You’re… just letting me off with a warning?”

“You looked like a puppy someone kicked out into the rain, Logan. I think you’ve grasped the gravity of what you did and the lives you put at stake. Punishment is partially to teach the person that what they did was wrong and to help them to make amends for their actions. I don’t see what throwing you out of the bunker or sending you to Thailand would do to help with that. You know what you did was wrong, and you can make amends in much more useful ways here with us.”

Wyatt gripped the back of a chair, squeezing tight. “You know you’re being generous, right? Flynn’s not going to like this. Or Dave, or even Rufus maybe. There’s only so forgiving even that guy can be.”

“I don’t care who does and doesn’t like it. I’m in charge.”

“Why are you really doing this?”

“It’s called a second chance,” Denise replied, calm, not rising to his bait. “I’m giving you one. You messed up, and here is a chance to show us that you’ve learned and you won’t mess up again. You’re still under observation. No missions. Someone has to be with you at all times and you don’t get a weapon. But I’m not going to bring the hammer down. And, while inadvertent, Emma did go after your former wife to get at you, so we ended up helping an innocent person. That has to be acknowledged. Even if your motives weren’t… quite right.”

“You don’t know me. Why give me a second chance.”

“Because it’s what moms do,” Denise replied.

Wyatt quickly looked down. He didn’t know how to handle her soft tone of voice.

Denise spoke quietly. “Rufus told me that we had grown close in the timeline you’re from. That I cared about you. I view you all as… children, not in the sense that you’re a child but in the sense that you belong to me. The only person here with a good family is Rufus and he has to let his mother and brother think he’s dead. I suppose it was only a matter of time until I emotionally adopted you all. Even if you’re a bunch of pains in my ass half the time.

“To think that you were once like that to me. That I viewed you as one of my…” Denise huffed a small laugh. “Bunker children, for lack of a better term. That I saw you as family. And that I’ve not forgotten that—it hurts. I would never want to forget Michelle, or my mother, or my beautiful children. I don’t want to forget any of you here. It pains me to know that I have. Even if I can’t change that and it wasn’t anything I did.”

Wyatt closed his eyes as he felt himself going hot all over, his stomach twisting, that telltale sting in his eyes. “Did Rufus tell you about my mom?”

“That she died when you were young.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I didn’t ever really get to know her. I didn’t have a whole lot of, y’know, good women in my life. Just crappy men. Except Jess and that went—badly. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”

He wiped at his eyes, trying to stop the stupid tears before they fell. “It’s not like we ever talked about it. I never said anything and neither did you. But you would talk to me, y’know? You, uh, made me a scarf for Christmas. You don’t even celebrate Christmas. But you made me one. I don’t think I—I didn’t lean on you as much as I should have. As much as I wanted to.” He finally looked up, looking her in the eye. “But y’know that’s how I thought of you. Or wanted to think of you. Didn’t know if you’d let me so I never brought it up.”

Denise tilted her head to the side, her gaze sad, like her child had just told her he’d gotten his lunch stolen at school. “You know this doesn’t change anything you did, or excuse it. It doesn’t make me trust you.”

“I know.”

Denise flicked her fingers in a _come here_ gesture.

Wyatt shuffled over and she hugged him, just the once, fiercely and tightly before pulling back. “That is one thing we can fix in our timeline. I’m not your therapist. Don’t go waking me up at two a.m. But we can finish building that bridge. If you want to view me that way, then you can.”

He nodded.

“Now go and apologize to Lucy, she’s been throwing a fit and I can’t blame her.”

Hoo boy.

 

* * *

 

Amy all but dragged Lucy into the bathroom. “You have got to be kidding me, you’re just going to forgive him, aren’t you?”

“I’m not—not exactly.” Maybe. Just a little.

Amy folded her arms. “Lucy. Do I have to tell you how much he messed up?”

“Trust me, I know. I’m aware.”

Amy leaned back against one of the sinks. “I don’t know how it was in your timeline, but here…” She sighed heavily. “You’re a bit of a pushover. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“That was why I liked Flynn so much, for you. He… he encouraged you to stick up for yourself. ‘You’re the historian, Lucy.’ ‘You tell ‘em, Lucy.’ ‘Show them who’s boss, Lucy.’ He loved all that you could be and he wanted you to claim that. I don’t want you to be with someone who’s going to walk all over you.”

“Wyatt doesn’t walk all over me.”

“He’ll start to if you don’t let him know how not okay this was. You were crying all day.”

She had been, although only Amy knew that. She’d wanted to throw up with worry, over Wyatt’s emotional state, over his being alone with Flynn, over what trouble they might get into, over whether Emma was involved…

Amy reached over, taking Lucy by the shoulders. “Just don’t do that thing where you say it’s fine and you forgive the person too easily.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Amy searched her sister’s eyes, then nodded. “Okay.”

“He’s just lost, that’s all. He’s scared. He wasn’t taught affection was freely given and so he’s always afraid that it’ll be taken away. He’s scared I’ll be taken away, and Jess—it’s complicated. I’m not saying it’s okay, I’m saying that I understand.”

“Understanding isn’t condoning. You let him know how you feel, and you don’t swallow it for his sake, okay?”

“…okay.”

Amy kissed her on the cheek. “Excellent. Go get ‘em tiger.”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt found Dave sitting on his bed when he got back into the room they were sharing. “Sorry for sneaking out on you. That was a cheap move.”

Dave shrugged. “The way I see it, I’m the least of the people you should be apologizing to.”

“Why does that fill me with dread?”

“It ought to.” Dave looked past Wyatt’s shoulder and jerked his chin.

Wyatt turned to see Lucy standing in the doorway.

She smiled calmly at Dave. “Mind if we get some privacy for a while?”

“Sure thing.” Dave gave Wyatt a look he knew well. It was the _you are so going to get eviscerated_ look.

Once Dave darted out like his ass was on fire, Lucy closed the door, marched up to Wyatt—

And slapped him.

“Ouch, goddammit, Luce!”

“That is possibly an overreaction!” Lucy announced, and oh fuck she was crying. “And I do not condone physical violence but—but—goddammit Wyatt!”

He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and shrank down, his shoulders curving inward. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I know.”

“You’re sorry? Are you really sorry?” Lucy demanded. “Or are you just saying that because you know it’s the right thing to say?”

“I—” Wyatt didn’t know how to finish the sentence or even what he was going to say to start it.

Lucy was shaking, literally, her cheeks going pink. “I was so worried, and I’m so glad you’re safe, and I meant that, I meant all of that earlier but God, Wyatt, you don’t just—you couldn’t have talked to me first? You couldn’t have said, hey, I’m worried about Jess and I want to check on her?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t!” Lucy savagely wiped at her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Because if you’d been thinking, you’d remember that she’s not your wife or your friend anymore. You want to talk to her about something you talk to me, dammit, or you talk to Rufus, because I—I know, okay, I know it hurts that Garcia and Bam Bam don’t remember you but we do! Rufus and I do! And we want to be here for you but not if you don’t let us! You just—you just went back to her, when she didn’t need you, when you literally don’t exist like what the hell, Wyatt, she literally can’t know who you are and you thought you should go to her instead of your wife?” Lucy flashed her ring at him. “Hello? Pretty sure somewhere in our vows we talked about being honest with each other! What the fuck?”

“I get it, okay?” Wyatt exploded, feeling his vision blurring as he started to cry right back at her. “You should just—go be with Flynn, all right, be with someone who doesn’t make the same mistakes over and over again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jess was better off without me. She was married to some high powered lawyer, she went to Stanford for Christ’s sake. I held her back and clearly I’m holding you back—”

“Oh no you don’t,” Lucy hissed, and holy shit that tone of voice was fucking terrifying. She advanced on him, grabbing two handfuls of his shirt and shaking him slightly. “You don’t get to pull that card. You don’t get to retract into your self-pity. That’s not how this works. You made a mistake and by God I’m going to be pissed as hell at you for it but you don’t get to pull away and end things either.”

She kissed him, biting, hot, possessive like she’d just taken a goddamn poker and branded him with it. “I am not leaving you just because of one mistake or because you’ve decided to host a pity party. I love you and you are stuck with me until all of time fucking unravels. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Then she was kissing him again, pushing him back until he had to sit down on the bed, climbing into his lap and straddling him, letting her weight sink down onto him. It was all Wyatt could do to hold on when it felt like she was kissing his brains out. All his wires were crossed and he was confused and upset and desperately turned on all at once. Lucy’s hands were all over him, her hips rolling into him, and he couldn’t even breathe he was so hard, Jesus Christ.

Then she was pulling away, standing up, straightening herself out.

Wyatt’s chest was heaving, and his pants were way too tight, and he still kind of felt like crying, and what the hell?

Lucy kissed him once more, on the cheek where she’d slapped him. “But I am still pissed at you so I’m sleeping with Flynn tonight.”

Then she waltzed out the door.

 

* * *

 

Lucy found Flynn reading in bed.

Well, she found him valiantly trying to read and not eavesdrop, which she supposed was all she could ask of him given the yelling she’d been doing the moment before. Everyone could probably hear the entire thing.

Part of her thought it might be a little too cruel to leave Wyatt with a case of blue balls but she’d had a case of emotional terror all day so really, it was only fair. She wasn’t going to let him run away from her in self-pity but she also wasn’t going to reward him with intimacy when he’d up and set fire to her trust like that.

Flynn looked up when she entered. “How’d it go?”

“About as well as expected.” Lucy rubbed at her eyes. She hated how she cried with everything. She was even an angry crier. “He thinks I’m better off without him…”

“Maybe you are.”

“That’s for me to decide, Flynn, that’s not for him to use as a tactic to beat himself up or to push me away or to manipulate me into forgetting my anger and coddling him.”

Flynn nodded once in acknowledgment and set the book aside. “And how are you feeling?”

“Wired. Restless. Angry and not angry. Disappointed in him. Missing him.” She shrugged, walking over and climbing onto the bed, crawling across it so that she could settle into Flynn’s lap. “It’s all a mess.”

“All relationships are, at some point. Lorena and I had some pretty bad fights in our time. She used to say I was more stubborn than a demonic mule.”

“You still are,” Lucy replied, trailing her finger down the bridge of his nose. Flynn went almost cross-eyed staring at her and she smiled hopelessly.

She loved Wyatt with all of her heart. And she would give him a second chance, and she would forgive him, once she’d had time to calm down and he’d figured out how to properly apologize.

But she loved Flynn with all of her heart too, and wasn’t she lucky that when she was having problems with one, she could turn to the other. She was never alone.

Flynn wrapped his arms around her. “Why do I have the feeling you’re up to something?”

“I’ve got all this energy…” she drawled, drawing her thumb across his lips. “And nothing to do with it…”

“Mmmm.” Flynn nipped at her thumb. “And I suppose you’ve got an idea on how to get yourself good and tired before bed?”

“Perhaps. Unless you’ve got an idea.”

She was flipped without warning, shrieking in delighted surprise as he set her down on the bed, his hands at her hips. “I just might.”

Lucy spread her legs, wiggling her hips in his grip. “Why don’t you show me then.”

Flynn’s gaze darkened and he undid her jeans, slowly peeling them down. “Tell me something, Lucy.” God she loved the way he said her name. “In your timeline… did I still have to work to make you scream?”

Her breath hitched. Oh Lord. “As a matter of fact, it did.” She arched her eyebrow and lifted her hips, letting him yank her jeans down.

Flynn’s hands slid up her thighs, spreading them, bringing his mouth down to nuzzle along the soft, sensitive skin. He kissed her, slowly, his tongue darting out, moving up at an unbearably slow pace.

Lucy threaded her hands through his hair, tugging. “I will order you.” She had, and did, on a regular basis.

“I’m not sure you will,” Flynn replied, the smug, snarky bastard. His voice was practically a purr. “I think tonight…” He flicked his tongue out and then bit down lightly, sucking, and Lucy squirmed. “…you’re going to let me play with you.”

He got her leg up over his shoulder and pressed his mouth right between her legs, twisting his tongue over her through her underwear. Lucy bit her lip, her hips arching. “Garcia…”

“Lift up, _cher_ ,” he murmured, and she lifted her hips again to let him pull her underwear down as well, getting it out of the way before he nosed through her folds.

She swallowed hard as he touched her, almost as if it was the first time, his lips and tongue exploring, seeking, finding all the ways that he could make her gasp. Heat steadily built inside of her, in her spine and right where he was, making her even more sensitive as she became slick and desperate.

Flynn twisted his tongue into her and she cried out, feeling him chuckle. “You still like that.”

“I told you, we’re the same person.”

“Still.” Flynn moved his arm up to pin her hips down, his forearm across her stomach. Lucy shivered in anticipation and at the feeling of being restrained. “This is, technically, our first time together. Got to make it memorable.”

Then he was sucking at her clit and Lucy couldn’t even think never mind come up with a reply.

She tugged at Flynn’s hair a bit but he didn’t seem to mind, licking into her, pulling back when he thought she was close, moving away to kiss or bite at her thighs instead. “Garcia,” she gasped out. “Garcia, s-stop teasing.”

Garcia laughed against her skin, making her jolt, but then he sucked hard at her clit and twisted his tongue against it _just_ right—

Lucy arched, shuddering, her vision going white as she rode the knife edge of that high. Yes, yes, _yes_.

Flynn pulled back, kissing slowly up her body, pushing her shirt up and off as he did so. “Guess what?” he whispered, his mouth just a hair’s breadth from hers.

“What?”

“You taste the same.”

Lucy gave a helpless little moan and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth, letting him curl his around hers and taking all that he wanted to give her.

Flynn pulled away just as she was losing her breath, kissing down her throat, along her shoulder, down to her breasts as his hand slid between her legs.

She grabbed his shoulders, his face, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth and curled his fingers inside of her. “Flynn, Flynn, Flynn—Garcia—”

He gave a pleased rumble in his chest, flicking his tongue, tugging lightly before letting go. He wasn’t teasing with his fingers, not now, adding a third, knowing how she liked the little sting, the stretch. She dug her nails in, letting out a tiny noise as Flynn’s thumb rubbed at her clit, his cheek scraping up her skin as he sucked at her neck. She’d have a mark there soon, a bright and bold one, and she didn’t mind at all—she wanted it. She wanted all the doubts between them, the timeline change, to fall away and become nothing. She wanted her husband back, and happy, and knowing that he was always hers.

She wanted all three of them back… but one miracle at a time.

Flynn pressed his thumb in hard, overstimulating her, thrusting in and Lucy inhaled sharply, her legs jerking. She clawed at him, the orgasm building in her higher and higher like layers.

“If you’re the same…” Flynn whispered, pressing another kiss to the other side of her neck, “…then if I want to get you to scream for me, we’re going to be here a while.” God, his fingers just wouldn’t stop inside of her, relentless, working her open for him. She was so slick she could feel it getting spread all over her thighs, leaking into the sheets. “Because you don’t make noise on the first orgasm, or the second… but if I’m lucky, maybe the third.”

He pressed the pads of his fingers up, up, _up—_

Lucy scratched his shoulders up as she came, hips twisting, writhing uncontrollably.

“If I’m lucky,” Flynn added, pulling his fingers away.

“Just get inside of me you smug—” She didn’t even finish her sentence as she licked her way into his mouth, manhandling him until he was under her and she could get her hand down his pants.

Fuck, yes, he was hot and heavy in her palm and she stroked him eagerly, until he was leaking over her fingers, gasping into her mouth. She purred, pleased. There were few things she liked more than having one or both of her men at her mercy, strung out, on edge, letting her play with them.

She spread her legs, sinking down onto him, and Flynn let out a desperate noise in the back of his throat. He had to be on edge from teasing her, she could feel the strain in his muscles as he tried to hold back.

“Go ahead,” she whispered, leaning forward, brushing her lips against his. “Fuck me like it’s the first time.”

Flynn growled and surged upward, catching her lower lip in his teeth, rolling his hips and fucking into her in one slow, deep motion that had him getting in all the way. She could taste him at the back of her throat, every inch of him scraping along the inside of her, lighting her up, setting her on fire.

A small moan escaped her and Flynn thrust in again, again, still slow, just as deep, until she was scraping her nails down his chest. “Faster,” she ordered, her voice breaking a little on the word. “Faster…”

Flynn did as she asked, getting harder, faster. She rocked her hips down into him, meeting him thrust for thrust, actively chasing the high that hadn’t quite gone away after the second orgasm. Her gasps got louder, got sound to them, and Flynn’s dazed, awe-filled look only made her want to be louder.

His hands moved up, cupping her breasts, playing with them, and Lucy moaned properly. “Right there,” she told him. “Right—there—yes, Garcia, yes—”

“ _Lijeb_ ,” Flynn murmured, his voice raw, and she could feel his control slipping away, his thrusts becoming erratic and harsh and yes, right—right like that right there until they were falling together, free-falling.

_Yes._

She collapsed against him, completely ready to be finished, but Flynn was gently turning her over again, moving back down between her legs and his mouth was—oh fuck, fuck, fuck—

“Garcia—Gar—I—” She scrambled to grab the bedsheets, Flynn’s arms, anything oh God he wasn’t fooling around he was oh God his tongue his Flynn Flynn Garcia fuck God _Garcia—_

She screamed, her last orgasm moving smoothly into one more, her entire body feeling like it was a live wire, strung out and raw but God she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Flynn planted slow, sucking kisses up her legs, her stomach, in between her breasts, until he kissed her lips, gently, as she struggled to get her breath back.

“Worth the work,” he whispered, his voice rough and gravelly.

Lucy wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deep and sloppy, rolling him over until they were tangled up together, until it felt like they were one.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt glared at the wall. He didn’t think Flynn was doing it on purpose, although Lucy might have been—she generally didn’t make a lot of noise and usually he and Flynn had to double-team it to get her to lose her mind completely.

But did they really—did she really—have to rub it in?

…okay so maybe she did. The message, after all, couldn’t have been more clear: _you could have this too if you hadn’t messed up._

Wyatt punched his pillow and turned over onto his other side. Dave was sleeping right through it, but then, Dave had slept through mortar shells and God knew what other insanity over in Iraq.

Besides, it wasn’t Dave’s wife and husband loudly fucking.

 _You don’t get to retract into your self pity,_ Lucy had said. _I love you and you are stuck with me until all of time fucking unravels._

Okay, okay. No more self pity.

He took a deep breath, then another.

He had to find a way to fix this. He was getting his family back.


	6. Chapter 6

Dave walked in, closed the door behind him, walked over to the bed, and then flopped face-first onto it.

Amy had been reading _Horrible Histories_ because she was nostalgic and still had a twelve-year-old’s sense of humor, but clearly she wasn’t going to be doing that now. She reached over and scratched at his scalp. “What’s up?”

She wasn’t… sure, exactly, what she and Dave were. When Lucy had introduced her to him, her first thought had been _Jesus he’s too cheerful to exist in real life._ Dave took to time traveling like none of the rest of them, not a historian but eager to learn and to try, never getting sick in the Lifeboat. Denise would joke that he was born for this.

For the most part, yeah, he was her sister’s coworker. But then things had gotten personal.

Mom.

She could still remember Dave banging her door down, his eyes wild. “Where’s Lucy?”

“I don’t know, Mom was taking her out to dinner…”

“There’s no time. Pack a suitcase, pack it now, just the essentials. We have to go.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Rittenhouse, they’ve bombed the facility and they’re coming after Lucy and if they don’t find her they’ll take you.”

She could remember those six weeks without Lucy, pacing, angry, trapped, her sister in their mother’s care, Carol’s twisted, brainwashing idea of ‘care’. She could remember Dave holding her while she cried, and telling her that he’d do whatever it took to get Lucy back for her. She remembered talking about their families, and him whispering his own family skeletons to her. She remembered the two of them pitching identical hissy fits when Flynn had been brought on board, and how when she’d found out Lucy had slept with the guy she’d gotten royally drunk and Dave had picked her up and carried her to her bed since she couldn’t even walk straight, and held her hair back when she puked her guts up the next morning.

So… yeah. She had no fucking clue what she and Dave were.

“Lucy’s up,” Dave said, his voice muffled.

“Reading Wyatt the riot act? She better.” Amy didn’t know this Wyatt and at the moment, she didn’t care to. Up and running after his ex-wife who didn’t even know who he was this time around, leaving Lucy in the lurch? Amy wanted to give him a piece of her own mind.

“You haven’t seen Lucy angry,” Dave warned, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at her. Amy ignored the flutter in her stomach. It had taken her a good month before she’d looked at Dave and gone _oh fuck he’s handsome_ but now it was like she couldn’t stop thinking that all the time.

It was very annoying.

“She’s terrifying, Ames.”

“Yes, yes, so I’ve been told.” On the mission where Emma had shot Mom, Lucy had, according to Dave and Flynn, been the incarnation of fury. Flynn was weird so he’d just fallen more in love with Lucy for it but Dave was, quote, ‘scarred for life’.

“She’s your sister, Ames, it’s different for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I kind of pity the guy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, clearly he’s been through the wringer a bit.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you remember the time I kissed Earnest Hemingway?”

“Uh-huh… wait _what_?”

Dave grinned at her. “I knew you’d stopped listening.”

“Hemingway was gay as fuck for Fitzgerald, who you look nothing like, Baumgardner,” Amy replied, poking him with the corner of her book.

Dave caught the book and tossed it away, grinning wider at Amy’s squawk of protest. “What are you gonna do now, Preston?”

 _Kiss you_ , she thought, but didn’t say. This bunker was clearly already tense enough with the weird Flynn-Wyatt-Lucy triangle going on. She wasn’t going to make it more awkward by ruining her friendship with Dave if she was wrong.

The moment stretched on and Amy watched as Dave’s gaze flicked down to her mouth for a second. Her breath caught. She wasn’t imagining that, was she?

“Hey, Ames?”

“Yeah?” Why were they whispering?

“So I really, really don’t want to ruin our friendship but…” Dave sat up so that they were now only a few inches apart.

Ah, screw it. “Ruin it.”

Dave tackled her onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt could honestly say that in all of his years on earth, he had never spent a more awkward or frustrating night than last night.

He’d listened to his spouses loudly, and enthusiastically, banging next door—and then had to put up with the smug look in Flynn’s eyes that morning, thanks—while his best friend who didn’t remember him slept the deep and satisfied sleep of those without heavy consciences, snoring the whole time.

Yeah, he’d take a warzone any day.

There was no reason for him to be up in the morning, so he didn’t wake until late. He didn’t even realize why he felt so disoriented until he realized that he was used to waking up with the smell of coffee in his nose courtesy of Flynn.

“Hey, _Schnecke_ ,” Flynn would murmur. “Drink some of this before deciding the sun hates you again, okay?”

But this time he only woke up because the alarm was going off.

He staggered into the main room along with everyone else, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Lucy looked… there was only one word for it: well-fucked. There was a hickey on her neck and everything. Amy looked like she’d had to walk through a train wreck to get here, Dave was bright-eyed and bushy tailed (damn him) and Rufus and Jiya just looked resigned.

Mason looked the way he usually looked: vaguely disdainful of his entire situation.

“All right,” Denise said, folding her arms. “Jiya, your turn to pilot. Where’d we go this time?”

It was incredibly weird to watch these proceedings when there was nothing for him to do. Flynn, Lucy, and Dave were obviously accompanying Jiya, because it seemed in this timeline that she and Rufus switched off piloting duties.

…which was something Rufus was not too happy to hear about.

“We’re talking about this when I get back,” Jiya told him. “Just stay alert until then.”

Rufus looked like he wanted to argue but was viciously biting back whatever he was going to say because, well, this wasn’t his timeline anymore.

Lucy ran over to Wyatt and he grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her. “Please stay safe.” There were so many things he wanted to say. Apologies he had to make. But there wasn’t any time.

It felt like there was never enough time.

“I love you,” Lucy whispered. She took his face in her hands and gently kissed him. “We’ll be back.”

The weight of Flynn’s wedding ring around his neck seemed to burn as Wyatt looked up and saw Flynn watching them from the Lifeboat steps. “I love you too, Luce, both of you be careful.” Emma was the new head of Rittenhouse, and she was deadly in a way that Nicholas Keynes had only dreamed he could be.

Lucy pulled away, accepting Flynn’s hand up to help her into the Lifeboat. Wyatt wanted to run to him, to grab him and shake him, to demand that Flynn come back in one piece.

But Flynn didn’t even look at him as he closed the Lifeboat door.

Wyatt swallowed hard, looking down at the ground as the Lifeboat vanished. For a moment, all was silent.

Then Denise sighed and said, “If anyone wants me, I’ll be knitting,” and Amy grabbed a book and flopped onto the couch, and Mason mumbled to himself as he manned the computers.

It was all… normal.

Except for Wyatt.

Rufus was sitting alone, though, and Wyatt knew he had an apology or three to make.

The moment he walked up, Rufus held up a hand. “Not. In the mood.”

“I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

Rufus squinted up at him. “Sorry, I thought I was talking to Wyatt? Wyatt Logan?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold on, I think you did apologize for something once…” Rufus thought back for a moment. “I think maybe? You apologized for stepping on my foot?”

“I deserve that.”

“Yeah, yeah you deserve it.” Rufus glared at him. “I stuck my neck out for you with Denise, I told her she could trust you, and then you turn around and you run away to see a woman who literally doesn’t know you exist? What was so important about Jess, what did she have that Lucy didn’t have, or that I didn’t have? Because either you’re in love with Jess and that means you chose her over Lucy, or Jess is your best friend and you chose her over me. Which one is it?”

Wyatt shoved his hands into his pockets and ignored the excuses that tried to pile up in his throat. “I fell into old habits. I was—upset, and when I was upset I would go to Jess. She was…” He was over explaining again. Rufus didn’t need to hear all that. “I was wrong. I was selfish, and I should’ve talked to you about things. Or Lucy.”

“Damn right.” Rufus turned to face Wyatt completely. “Do you know how many times I’ve put my ass on the line for you? Going back to take care of Jess’s killer? Lying for you? I helped you pick out your anniversary presents to Lucy and Flynn, man, and not once, not _once_ , have you apologized for any of the shit you’ve pulled and the drama you’ve made.”

“Lucy said something along those lines.”

“You’re lucky she’s still in love with you for some ridiculous God only knows reason.”

“Right, okay, but Rufus—you’re my best friend. I understand if I’m not yours anymore, but you’re mine. And I broke your trust in running to Jess and I’m sorry for it and so I want you to tell me what I can do to make up for it. How can I make it better?”

Rufus sighed. “I’m not sure. If I could think of one thing you could do, like making me pancakes, then I’d tell you. But I don’t know. It’s just going to take time. Just like it’ll take time for things to get right with those two.”

“I don’t know if I can make that right. Flynn’s make it clear he doesn’t want to get to know me.”

Rufus gave him a piercing stare for a long moment, one that made Wyatt squirm. At last he said, “My mom used to say—if you have to take it or hide it, then you don’t think you deserve it.”

“…what?”

Rufus shrugged. “Just think about it. I think you could be worth Flynn’s time. But if you don’t think you’re worth his time… if you don’t think you’re worth anyone’s anything, then you take. You act selfish, because you think that what you have’ll be taken away from you. So don’t hide it, and don’t take it. Ask for it. Earn it. Flynn had to earn Lucy. I had to earn Jiya. And actually we all had to earn Flynn because at the end of the day he was the one who was right and we were wrong, even if we didn’t know it, even if we didn’t want to know it. So, just… be his friend. Get to know him.”

Wyatt didn’t even know where to start with that.

“I’ll be a better friend to you, Rufus. I promise.”

“No offense, Wyatt, but I’ll believe it when I see it. I need actions, not words.”

That was fair. “Okay.”

“And for what it’s worth?” Rufus cracked a small smile. “I’m rooting for you. Don’t tell the guy this, but when Flynn’s in love with you, he’s a lot more mellow with the rest of us.”

“…I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It means he spends his time bickering with you instead of us.”

“I know what it means, Rufus, but thanks for rubbing it in.”

 

* * *

 

Lucy stopped Dave before he could head to bed. “Hey, um. I don’t suppose I could ask you if you were okay with me joining you guys in the room tonight?”

Dave gave her a wonderful impression of a deer in the headlights. “Um. If you’re going to be… if you’re with Wyatt that means you’re technically watching him, right? So I don’t even need to be there so I could…”

“…spit it out, Bam Bam.”

Dave opened his mouth a few times, closed it, and continued to look rather terrified.

“It means he wants to know if he can sleep with me,” Amy said, breezing by and snagging Dave’s hand. “And the answer is yes and you’re not going to make a fuss about it, Lucy.”

“You—you two—what— _Amy Preston get your ass back here and tell me when this happened—_ ”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt jolted awake as he felt someone sliding into bed with him, settling into his arms. “Lucy?”

“The one and only.”

He grabbed her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry honey. I was a jackass and I’m so sorry—”

“Mm, I know you are.” Lucy propped herself up on his chest, her dark eyes gazing at him. “What I want is for you to change your behavior, okay? You got a problem you come to me. Your wife.”

“Yes ma’am.” He combed his hand through her hair, fingering the thick, dark locks. “I love you Luce. So much. I can’t… I don’t want to ever lose you but I don’t understand why you stay.”

“Because I love you.” Lucy shrugged, as if she was telling him that gravity was a thing. “And one mistake, one bad day, can’t convince us to give up. What kind of relationship is that, giving up when you have one bump?”

She stroked his cheek and he felt his eyes slipping closed. He hadn’t done anything all day and yet he felt so tired. “You stayin’ with me tonight?”

“Yes. I’m switching off between you and Flynn.” Lucy curled into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Wyatt held her tightly. She must feel cold without Flynn’s extra warmth. Lucy got cold easily at night, it was why she slept in the middle. “I’m going to do better, Lucy, I promise.”

Lucy sighed. “Just stop thinking about your own problems for two seconds, okay? Wyatt?”

“Okay.”

“Now shut up and hold me.”

“…yes ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Flynn knew who was coming down the hallway before he could see them. He’d know Lucy’s distinct pat-pat sound anywhere.

He’d known, from the moment he met her, that he wasn’t going to be worthy of her. He’d never asked for anything, had never expected anything.

So when she’d kissed him a month after her mother died, after Emma’s bullet grazed his temple, he’d thought, _oh I’m dying and this is a nice hallucination my brain is giving me as I go._

But no. She’d really kissed him. She really loved him.

Loved him enough to say yes when he’d proposed to her, hands shaking, voice raw, heart frozen in fear.

He’d never once stopped fearing that he would lose her. That Lucy would be ripped away from him the way Lorena and Iris had. He hadn’t been able to protect them. Who was to say he’d be able to protect Lucy either?

Now, he hadn’t lost her—but she wasn’t his in the same way, either. She loved him. She was his Lucy, in the ways that mattered. She’d impressed that upon him again and again. But she was someone else’s, too. She loved Wyatt.

How was he supposed to handle that?

Lucy entered the kitchen, humming happily as she held her hands out. “Bean me.”

“I suspect you’re getting spoiled,” Flynn noted, handing her a cup of coffee.

Lucy just purred as she sipped at her drink. Flynn watched her, knowing he was smiling all besotted and unable to stop.

At last Lucy pushed her hair out of her face and walked over to him, going up onto her tiptoes to kiss him good morning. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Badly. He’d gotten so used to Lucy’s warmth, her tiny soft body curled into him seeking his heat, her cold toes shoved between his thighs, that he’d been barely able to sleep without her.

“Garcia.” Lucy reached up, tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, with her thumb. She rubbed between his eyes, at his brow. “I know what you look like when you haven’t slept enough.”

He sighed. “Someday I’ll remember to stop trying to fool you.”

“Hmmm, yes you will. How many times have I figured out what you were getting me for my birthday?”

“Too many times.” He wrapped his arms around her. “ _Moja draga_. I just don’t want to be selfish.”

“You’re not.”

Flynn sighed. “I missed you. It was hard to sleep without you.”

“I miss you too, handsome. But I need to give equal time to both of you. It’s only fair.”

“I know.” He might have a whole lot of feelings about Wyatt Logan, but Lucy loved him. He had to respect that and respect that she was trying to be fair to both of them.

“You know…” Lucy set her cup down so that she could reach both hands up and run her fingers through Flynn’s hair. “This could be solved if Wyatt joined us in bed.”

“Ah…”

“No sex, I promise. It would just be… platonic. Just sharing a bed.”

“Wyatt’s in love with me. Or so he says. Wouldn’t that be difficult for him?” If Flynn had to share a bed every night with Lucy, knowing she didn’t love him back, he’d go insane.

“I’m not saying it will be easy. But it might be easier than having to sleep alone every other night. This way you both get me. I’ll sleep in the middle.”

It sounded like there were a million ways this could go wrong, and Flynn wasn’t sure he could stand the guy long enough to be that close with him. But on the other hand, it wasn’t like they’d have to talk since they’d be sleeping…

“I’ll think about it.”

Lucy nodded, kissing him softly. “That’s all I ask.”

Flynn held her, swaying slightly as she scattered gentle kisses all over his face. Soon everyone else would be up, but he just wanted to hold her, to relax into this, for a little while longer.

“Ah, the lovebirds are at it again,” Amy commented as she came into view.

The change in Lucy was immediate. She whirled around, pointing an accusing finger. “You.”

“Uh-oh,” Amy said, freezing.

Then she took off running.

Lucy tore after her.

“Amy—Amy Preston you get back here this _minute_ and you tell me how long you have been—without telling me—your own _sister_ —I have never been so betrayed in my _life_ —”

Wyatt, who had just entered, turned and stared after them, then looked at Flynn. “…I missed something.”

Flynn shrugged. “I missed it too, but whatever it is I wouldn’t count on Amy making it out alive.”

Wyatt looked completely baffled, and Flynn had to suppress his chuckle by taking a sip of coffee. Wyatt’s early morning bedhead and bleary eyes were sort of adorable.

Sort of.


	7. Chapter 7

Wyatt woke up early, for once.

He never used to wake up early, despite the military training. In fact, he was used to waking up last, lured out by Lucy and/or Flynn, or jolted awake by the alarm.

Now, though, it was like he couldn’t sleep properly, like his brain knew something was missing even while asleep and had to wake him up to try and get him to find it.

Lucy was with Flynn last night, so he’d been by himself, which hadn’t helped either. He’d never felt so cold before. He’d always slept on the side of the bed because he overheated, while Lucy took the middle because she was really a heat-stealing demon in disguise, and Flynn took the part with his back to the wall so nobody could sneak up on him. But now he was cold, so cold, and would give anything to be in the middle, Lucy asleep on his chest and Flynn curled up behind him, arms around Wyatt’s waist.

No use in dwelling on it, though. He was trying hard not to wallow in self-pity and the best way to do that, he was finding, was keeping his mind off it.

It would help if he could get out of the bunker now and again, though. It was starting to feel like the walls were closing in on him. Now he knew how Lucy felt all the time.

He got up and went out into the hallway in search of breakfast. Dave and Amy had unofficially moved in together, since they stayed up doing ‘disturbingly loud things’ (Lucy’s words, not his, to which Amy had responded that she’d once walked in on Flynn in _handcuffs_ , Lucy, she’d needed _brain bleach_ ), so at least he got the room to himself now. Didn’t have to worry about picking up his meager belongings or being loud.

Mmm, coffee, he could smell it. Wyatt stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. God, if he didn’t know any better it would feel like old times, like Flynn was just pouring a cup for him and a cup for Lucy, like he’d glance over and smile and hold his arm out for Wyatt to tuck himself into Flynn’s side, let Flynn support him as Wyatt slowly, reluctantly, woke himself up. Sometimes if no one else was around Flynn would even kiss him, slowly, uncaring for morning breath.

But that was only when other people weren’t around. Wyatt had never quite gotten over that curl of shame in his stomach at doing affectionate things with Flynn in front of others.

Now, he didn’t know why. Every goddamn moment with Flynn had been more important than whatever shame he’d felt—shame that nobody else had carried around. Nobody cared that he was with Flynn. He’d been the only one, and now he could look back and see so many moments where he hadn’t reached out, or he’d known Flynn hadn’t out of respect, and he wanted to tear time apart and go back and do it all over again so that not a single one of those moments was wasted.

In fact for a second he thought he had somehow gone back in time. Flynn was standing in the kitchen, coffee pot in front of him, humming something. Flynn wasn’t the best singer but he could carry a tune, and his low voice was rather suited for soft, slow, quiet songs.

Wyatt started to walk towards him, to reach out—to grab him and—

Then Flynn turned and saw him. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up. There should be enough left for you, if you want.”

Oh. Right.

Thank God he hadn’t actually reached out and kissed Flynn good morning, then. That would’ve been a disaster and a half. “Thanks.”

Flynn gave him an odd look as Wyatt shuffled over to pour himself a cup of coffee. “See you later.”

“Yup.” Wyatt forced himself to give a small smile. Be cheerful, damn it, it wasn’t Flynn’s fault this was a mess. No need to be all mopey around him.

Flynn gave him another odd look and then left.

Wyatt thunked his head against the fridge.

God he felt like a moron.

 

* * *

 

See you later?

_See you later?_

What kind of—Flynn could’ve slapped himself for the sheer idiocy. They lived in the same bunker! He wasn’t going out to work for the day. He was literally going to see Wyatt in about another twenty minutes!

See you later?

He was an idiot.

He really wasn’t sure what had come over him. He was rarely tongue tied around people—Lucy being one of the exceptions. But Wyatt had shuffled in, sleepy and soft-looking, and for a moment he’d looked at Flynn like… like Flynn was his whole world.

And then he’d blinked and looked at Flynn with this carefully calm, placid expression, this look of neutral cheerfulness, and Flynn had suddenly felt his stomach drop out. Because he knew that look. He’d had that look on his face when he’d fallen in love with Lucy and had thought he didn’t stand a chance.

(Of course at the time he’d also mistakenly thought she and Dave had a thing, when the truth had Dave already apparently been pining after Amy.)

But to see that forced neutral expression and to know why it was there and to know what it felt like to do that… it hurt to see someone else go through that and to know that he was the cause.

Wyatt was perfectly polite, brushing past him to get the coffee. He filled out his pajama pants and the shirt was a little tight around the shoulders, stretching across his chest, and Flynn couldn’t help but notice their height difference was ideal for…

Okay. Okay so maybe—just _maybe_ —he was the littlest bit attracted to Wyatt. Maybe, just maybe, he thought that getting his hands on that ass and his mouth on that neck wouldn’t be such a terrible idea. And maybe that was why he’d stupidly said, “see you later.”

But that didn’t really mean anything, not really. He’d been passingly attracted to people throughout his life. He could recognize that Wyatt was handsome ( _pretty_ , his traitorous brain supplied) and then move on with his day.

Sure.

 

* * *

 

Jiya watched from the bed as Rufus got dressed. He moved the same. Talked the same. Loved her the same.

And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Rufus?”

“Hmm?” He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Jiya fiddled with the blanket. “In your timeline, did—did you—did the team ever go to Chinatown in the 19th century?”

Rufus scrubbed at the back of his head. “Um… yeah. It got—complicated. Timelines changed a lot, for us. Like in one timeline, Amy didn’t exist. Then she did, again. Jess was dead, then alive but good, then alive but working for Rittenhouse. Now Wyatt doesn’t exist and it’s all a jumble again.”

“But you did go there.”

Rufus looked at her. “Why? Babe, what’s wrong?”

Jiya looked down at her hands. “I have dreams.”

“In my timeline you called them visions. You started to have a lot of control over them.”

“Yeah well here they’re just… dreams. From when we—”

“—went to the 1950s and had to take you because Rittenhouse took over the facility.” Rufus nodded.

Jiya swallowed. “Sometimes my dreams come true. Sometimes they don’t. But the one I kept having was that—you went to Chinatown and you died.”

Rufus sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. “I did.”

Jiya folded in on herself without realizing it, her forehead tipping down to her knees. She breathed in and out, carefully. She didn’t know why apparently now, in this timeline, her gift was weaker, but—but she could see—

“Does this mean I’m not just seeing the past or the future? I’m seeing what was, before the timeline got changed or erased?”

“I suppose. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Jiya reached out, pulling him towards her. Rufus wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t want to lose you, in any timeline.”

“I came back,” Rufus assured her. “I came back, and we worked it out. It’s all okay.”

“I’m shaking,” she admitted, laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

“You’re not going to lose me. Not for good.”

She nodded into his shoulder.

“Hey, do you still watch ridiculous reality TV with Lucy?”

Jiya laughed in spite of herself. “Do you still like stupid comedies?”

“ _Airplane!_ is not stupid. I don’t care what you and Flynn say, you’re both wrong.” Rufus pulled back, smiling at her. “We’re here, and we’re okay. That’s what matters.”

Jiya nodded, kissing him before curling up in his arms again, letting him hold her. She supposed that was what she had to count on.

 

* * *

 

Lucy entered the living room, frowning.

Dave was stretched out on the couch, Amy in between his legs with her back to his chest, a chess board in her lap. “Admit defeat, Preston.”

“Hmm.” Amy moved her knight. “You sure? Because I do believe that’s checkmate, Baumgardner.”

Dave stared at the board for a minute. “…oh hell.”

God, those two were sickeningly cute. Lucy was stupidly happy for her sister. “Either of you seen Wyatt?”

“Nope,” Amy said as Dave reset the board, declaring a best two out of three.

Wyatt wasn’t in the bathroom, or his bedroom, or in Rufus and Jiya’s room.

She found him, of all places, in the Lifeboat. He was sitting on the floor, just staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She slipped inside, closing the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

Wyatt sighed. “It’s going to sound stupid.”

“Try me.”

He looked up at her. “I’m pretending I can go somewhere.”

Lucy sat down next to him. “Getting stir crazy, huh?”

“Is this how it always feels to you? Like the walls get thicker all the time? Like the air is stale and thin and not moving so it’s not really there and you can’t breathe?”

Lucy nodded. “It feels a lot like that.” She took his hand. “Does this help?”

Wyatt tipped to the side so that he could rest his head on her shoulder. “Yeah. This helps.”

 

* * *

 

Lucy pounced the moment Denise arrived at the bunker. “You need to send Wyatt on missions.”

Denise folded her arms. “Because he did such a good job the last time he was outside the bunker.”

“He’s getting claustrophobic. It’s not mentally healthy for him to stay in here so long. Even Mason goes out on missions sometimes. He’s a soldier, he’s an asset. What are you keeping him around for if you don’t use him?”

“He has to—”

“Prove himself, I know. But how is he supposed to do that while stuck here?”

Denise arched an eyebrow as if to say _go on_.

Lucy took a deep breath. “He can’t do anything here to prove his worth. Have him go on a mission that’s soldier heavy. Make it a boys’ trip. Flynn and Dave can both keep an eye on him. It’ll be sometime that Flynn knows a lot about, history wise. If he screws it up, he screws it up, but I think he won’t. I think you could use him.”

Denise was silent for a long moment. Then she sighed. “All right. But I decide which mission it is based on what we know when the Mothership jumps.”

“That’s fair.” Lucy gave into her impulse and jumped forward, hugging her. “Thank you.”

“Thank me if it’s a success,” Denise replied, but she wrapped an arm around Lucy and squeezed back.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt nearly ran into Dave outside the bathroom. “Whoa, sorry.”

“Oh, hey, no problem.”

Wyatt stepped aside, but then paused. “Hey, Bam Bam?”

Dave paused, looking back, one foot in the bathroom. “Yeah?”

“Congratulations, on you and Amy. I know her, from my timeline, and I know you, and you’re both really great people. I’m happy for you.”

Dave grinned. “Thanks, man.”

“You’ll have to tell me the whole story sometime.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

Wyatt went to bed feeling a little lighter that evening.

Of course, Lucy sleeping in his arms helped.


	8. Chapter 8

The alarm went off and Wyatt groaned, heaving himself out of bed. Not because he was actually going anywhere but because he might as well see what was up and fat chance he was going back to bed while Lucy and Flynn were traveling through time and possibly getting hurt or shot at or God knew what.

When he got into the main room, however, Denise looked him up and down and said, “get dressed, you’re leaving.”

“Why does it matter if he’s dressed if he’s going to steal clothes?” Jiya asked.

“Wait hold on—” Flynn looked at Wyatt, then looked at Denise like she’d said she’d voted for Trump. “You’re letting him go on the mission?”

“He’s got to start earning his keep somehow,” Denise replied calmly. “It’ll be you, Dave, and Rufus will pilot.”

“But—”

“It’s a soldier-heavy mission, Flynn. They’re supplying modern-day arms to obliterate the Korean War and I’m not letting Lucy go into a heavy warzone when you three will be more useful.” Denise had that _this is final_ tone in her voice.

Wyatt could hardly breathe. This was his chance—he’d prove himself, he’d—he’d be useful, he’d help out, he’d prove that they needed him.

Flynn gave Wyatt a look of pure exhaustion. “All right, get in your damn seat, Logan.”

Wyatt wasn’t sure how he felt about Flynn clearly being the leader here. It was how it had been in his timeline, come to think of it, on those rare occasions when Lucy wasn’t able to come, but then it had felt natural. Turning to Flynn for leadership, to know what to do, had just been a part of their dynamic. This was different. This was a Flynn who didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, and made that clear every second—even now as they clambered into the Lifeboat he looked like he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

Although it was possible Wyatt was projecting a little.

The mission, it seemed, was simple: find some way to incapacitate the Rittenhouse guys and destroy the 21st century weapons they were planning to hand to the 1950s American soldiers, somehow a part of the big ‘rewrite the 50s’ scheme Rittenhouse had going on now.

“Where do these guys even get their ideas?” Flynn muttered as they scouted.

“You had the same idea,” Wyatt pointed out. “Arming John Wilkes Booth and his friends?”

Flynn really did roll his eyes there. “All right, Dave, you got any ideas?”

“Not necessarily,” Dave admitted. “The men here are desperate, they’re ready to believe whatever ‘advanced tech’ cock and bull story RH is selling them. I don’t think we can convince them not to trust Rittenhouse.”

“I say we distract the guys and blow the weapons with those spare mines,” Wyatt said. He’d had the idea as soon as he’d seen the mines. “One of us causes a big stink, then the others can sneak in and detonate the mines.”

“Let me guess,” Flynn snarked. “You want to be the distraction.”

“I’m pretty good at provoking fights,” Wyatt pointed out, smirking conspiratorially at him before remembering that he wasn’t allowed to flirt with Flynn anymore and quickly looking away.

“No.” Flynn shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You’re making yourself a target and they’ll obliterate you.”

“We have to move fast.”

“No, we have to wait until dark when the shift change happens.”

“And maybe lose our window? No thanks.”

“What you’re suggesting is stupid.”

“What you’re suggesting might cost us our chance!”

“Flynn is right,” Dave said, cutting over Wyatt’s planned remark. “We went in with strike teams, Wyatt. If you were Delta, you know this isn’t our kind of show. Flynn was in guerilla wars, that’s what we need here. Stealthy, as little attention as possible.”

Wyatt looked over at Rufus.

Rufus shrugged. “I’m with Flynn.”

Wyatt looked at Flynn. “I think you’re saying no just because it’s me.”

“I think I’m saying no because it’s fucking stupid.”

“So if Rufus suggested it you’d still say no?”

“Rufus wouldn’t have suggested it because Rufus isn’t an idiot who’s going to risk his life for no damn good reason.”

“Guys…” Dave said quietly.

“We’re losing daylight.” Wyatt could feel his voice rising and struggled to keep it under control.

“We’re not risking ourselves needlessly.”

“It’s not needless, it’s—”

“You want to go out and get yourself shot fifty times?” Flynn spat, “Be my guest.”

Wyatt stared at him. “…wow.”

He got up and stormed off before he did something really stupid.

“Wyatt—he didn’t mean it like that—” Dave called after him.

“Yes I did,” Flynn replied.

Wyatt stopped, forcing himself to breathe. The mission, they couldn’t compromise the mission. He turned around and walked back. “We’ll do what Flynn wants, since it’s what Rufus and Dave want,” he said. “But you and me?” He gestured between Flynn and himself. “Not finished.”

“Oh, yes we are,” Flynn growled, towering over him, using their five-inch difference to his advantage. “I am more than finished with you. Now get your ass over to the north and guard the Lifeboat.”

“Wha—”

“You think I’m letting you near danger if you’re going to be this reckless and volatile? Fuck no. You can make sure no Korean spy or American soldier in search of a quiet place to pee stumbles across it.”

Wyatt felt rage bubbling up inside him and he wanted to punch the guy, but he settled for storming away instead.

 

* * *

 

Flynn was going to strangle the guy. He was going to strangle him and leave him hanging as a warning to all other idiots who thought they wanted to play hero—

He stormed out of the Lifeboat, but he could already hear Wyatt hot on his heels.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me—”

“I will go anywhere I damn well want, and you can’t—” Flynn bellowed, turning around to find Wyatt ready to get right into his face, cheeks bright red.

“What the hell happened?” Denise demanded.

“Flynn and Wyatt had a difference of opinion on how to handle the mission,” Dave said diplomatically.

“I hate white people,” Rufus said absently to no one in particular.

“He’s being an idiot,” Flynn announced. “A complete—he wanted us to just—it would’ve risked his life and for no good reason—” He was so mad he could hardly speak. Did Wyatt really think—was he so desperate for pain that he’d fling himself into harm’s way? Did he have some kind of death wish? The guy was annoying the fuck out of Flynn but he didn’t want him to die, fuck’s sake.

“Flynn won’t listen to me, he doesn’t trust me—”

“I listened, I saw it was a bad plan, I said no.”

“You think I’m an idiot.”

“I think you’re _being_ an idiot. There’s a difference. Maybe if you thought about someone besides yourself you’d know that because you’d actually be listening to what I was saying!”

Wyatt stormed over to him as everyone else finished running into the room. Amy looked like she was wishing she had some popcorn to watch this with, Jiya looked concerned, Mason looked bored and Denise looked pissed. “You would’ve gone with the plan if Dave had thought it up, or Rufus. Admit it, you would’ve shot down anything I said because I was the one who said it.”

Lucy ran forward. “Wyatt—”

Flynn jabbed a finger at him. “You are a real pain in my ass, Logan, but despite whatever stupid idea you’ve gotten into your head about me, I stopped your plan because you would’ve fucking _died_ and last I checked, that would make Lucy pretty damn upset and, last I fucking checked, I wasn’t a sociopath who wanted you dead.”

“You sure about that? Because you’ve been doing a real good job of acting like you wouldn’t cry if something happened to me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t wallowing around in your self-pity and demanding everyone’s attention like a spoiled five year old, I’d like you better!”

For once, he didn’t see the punch coming. It showed Flynn more than anything else just how much Wyatt got his dander up, because he was too wrapped up in yelling at the guy that he couldn’t see what Wyatt was about to do.

Flynn reeled back as Lucy gasped out an outraged, “Wyatt Logan!”

Wyatt went for him again but Flynn grabbed his arms, and then Wyatt grabbed his arms in return and they were grappling, and fuck, Wyatt at least knew Flynn’s fighting style because he was countering Flynn’s attempts to trip him and subdue him, and Lucy was grabbing at them both and yelling—

And Wyatt’s fist swung back and hit Lucy in the jaw.

Everyone froze.

Flynn let go of Wyatt and ran over to her, pulling her into his arms, taking her chin in his hand and tilting it up. “Lucy, Lucy—”

“I’m fine…”

“Lucy.” Wyatt sounded agonized.

Lucy pulled away from Flynn and stormed over to Wyatt, grabbing his face in her hands and shaking him slightly. Tears stood out in her eyes. “Get. Your goddamn head on straight, Wyatt.”

Wyatt reached for her but she was already pulling away. “Lucy—Lucy I’m—”

“I’m tired of your sorrys,” Lucy choked out.

Flynn hurried after her as she strode from the room, her hands clenched, clearly forcing herself not to run. “Lucy, _moja draga_ —”

“And you,” she added, whirling around, her voice a fierce whisper. “You were probably right but you _know_ you’re giving him attitude so just—he’s an idiot but you’re not! Helping! You’re being obstinate on purpose and you know it!”

“Lucy—”

“I love him and he’s a good person and maybe he’d be a lot better if you would stop making it abundantly clear that you’re not even going to give him a chance!” Lucy turned to go, then stopped, turning around. “Both of you can find somewhere else to sleep tonight, I’m not taking the couch because _you_  were both awful.”

Then she turned around, strode into their bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

Lucy rubbed at her temples as she lay on the bed. Wyatt and Flynn were both off cooling down—separately—and she just wanted to scream. She wanted it all to be back the way that it was before, she wanted her boys together and happy.

She wanted her husbands back, not going for each other’s throats.

“Knock knock,” Jiya whispered, knocking on the open door.

“Ugh, come in.”

Jiya walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit. But if Amy asks I’m fine.” Amy in this timeline tended to hover—probably because she’d had to deal with Lucy being kidnapped for six weeks by their own mother.

Jiya nodded, watching her for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Mm, yeah, shoot.”

“Why are you in love with Wyatt?”

Lucy looked up at her. “What?”

Jiya shrugged. “I gotta admit, what I’ve seen from him isn’t all that impressive. Anyone can see Flynn doesn’t know why you stick by him. So… enlighten me.”

Lucy sighed. “He’s not been—he’s not usually this—he’s angry and hurt.”

“It’s how people perform under pressure that show us who they really are,” Jiya pointed out gently.

“I—I know. And he’s—I don’t know, Jiya. I love him because he’s gentle and sweet, and a little reckless, and a little cocky, and wants to give me the best and builds me up and he’s soft when he lets himself be and he’s at his best when he’s like that, and—and I just want that back. I want that soft man back. I don’t know what this is.”

She wiped at her eyes. “I’ve never seen him be this—this angry before, and lashing out, and just such a stubborn goddamn—I could strangle him, I really could.” It felt like all the things she loved about Wyatt, his fire, his stubbornness, his jumping in with both feet, were turned around and flipped over, and had become the traits she was the most upset over.

Jiya pet her hair. “It’s like that. You think you know someone and then, bam.”

“The old me,” Lucy explained, “the first me. Wyatt’s from—from an even earlier timeline. So is Rufus. I’m from another timeline. And I can’t help but wonder if the me from that first timeline had dealt with this. If she would know what to do.”

“Nobody knows what to do. I have visions of the future and I still don’t know what to do.”

Lucy giggled a little.

“Rufus and I have had some rough patches too. And I guarantee we’ll have some more. But if you know why you love him, and you trust… just… I don’t want you to stay in something that isn’t good for you.”

“You sound like Amy.”

“Good.”

Lucy took Jiya’s hand, squeezing it. “I’ll get through this. We’ll get through this, the three of us. I have to believe that. And I promise… I won’t let it become unhealthy. Wyatt and I are good. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him and Flynn but the two of us are good. Flynn and I are good. It’s getting Flynn and Wyatt on the same page that’s impossible.”

“Well, if anyone could do it, it’s you.” Jiya smiled at her softly. “They’re both so in love with you, half the time I look at them they’re just staring at you all soft-eyed. But I wanted to make sure that you—that it really was good, and you weren’t sticking around out of habit or because you didn’t realize it was an option, now that you’re kind of all he has.”

Lucy hugged her. “Thank you, Jiya, for checking.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” Jiya kissed her on the cheek. “So, Amy was thinking: classic movie night? Popcorn and brownie batter and beer?”

“God, yes.”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt’s hand was still smarting later. There was a joke about Flynn’s hard head in there somewhere.

What smarted even more was knowing he’d been in the wrong.

Even if his plan was the right one, he’d lost his temper and been an asshole. He had to apologize for that.

He caught Flynn as the guy was walking down the hallway. Wyatt wanted to get him alone—embarrassment aside, this was a private conversation. “Flynn.”

Flynn stopped short when he saw him, instantly wary. “Wyatt.” He leaned against the wall, folding his arms. Flynn never backed down, but Wyatt could tell he was tired and didn’t want to deal with this.

“I’ll make this quick,” he promised. “I just wanted to apologize.” God, the words stuck in his throat. “I lost control, I got emotional, and it was wrong. I should never have screamed at you and definitely not have hit you.”

His dad had hit. He didn’t want to be like that. The old Flynn would’ve known that—but this Flynn didn’t know shit.

Had his Flynn, the former Flynn, let Wyatt get away with shit because he’d known about Wyatt’s past? Because he had loved Wyatt? The way Lucy sometimes did now, still? Had Wyatt been an asshole this whole time and Flynn had just let it slide?

“It was wrong of me, and there’s no excuse, and I’m sorry.” He could’ve gone on, but he would’ve just been repeating himself and wasting Flynn’s time.

He stood there, feeling like a bug under a microscope, as Flynn looked him up and down, like he was looking for something, some sign or word written on Wyatt’s body, like he thought another apology would appear on Wyatt’s shirt.

Flynn watched him like a hawk for a moment more, then nodded sharply. “All right then.”

“…all right?”

Flynn shrugged. “You apologized, I’m saying all right. I acknowledge that you’re apologizing.”

Wyatt honestly had no goddamn clue what to do with this. “Um…”

“Look.” Flynn pushed himself up off the wall, his hands moving to his hips. “I’m not accepting your apology. I hope it made you feel better to make it, but I don’t care a rat’s ass for anything you say. I care about what you do. You want to make it up to me or show me that you’re worth putting my faith in, I want some damn actions. Say whatever you want, say nothing at all, I’m looking at what you _do_.”

Wyatt tried to ignore the twisting knot in his stomach, the one that made him feel impossibly sick and dizzy. “I—I understand that. That’s fair.”

“Damn right it’s fair,” Flynn replied. “Now get some rest, you look like shit.”

Wyatt blinked as Flynn shoved past him.

Actions. Right. Okay. Actions.

 

* * *

 

Rufus was flipping through a comic book—God bless Denise—and contemplating if he could read another issue or if he really should go to sleep when Wyatt sat on the couch with him.

“Not in the mood, buddy.” He couldn’t play therapist to Wyatt after all the shit that had gone down today.

“I just wanted to say I was sorry for putting you in the middle like that.”

Rufus nearly got whiplash looking up. “Oh?”

Wyatt looked completely contrite, like a kicked puppy. “I lost my cool and it was—there’s no excuse, it was shitty. I always told myself I wouldn’t be like my dad, and there I was yelling and throwing punches. You had to put up with that today and God knows how many times before and it’s just not fair to you.”

“…thanks.” Rufus paused. “You know I’m still kind of pissed at you.”

“Yeah, I figured. I, uh… it’s real personal, for me, with Flynn. And I think it’s personal for him, too, whether he wants to admit it or not. So I take shit more personally when it’s from him. His plan was better, you guys were right to support it.”

Rufus nodded. Awkward silence fell for a moment, and then Wyatt added, “How’s your family?”

“What?”

“Your family. In this timeline, are they okay?”

That took Rufus by surprise. Wyatt rarely asked about Rufus’s family. Wyatt rarely asked about… anything.

“They’re okay,” Rufus confirmed. “Thought I was dead, when we all went underground, same as in our timeline. Kevin’s looking at colleges.” He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I always promised I’d help him out.”

“Does he want to go to MIT?”

“Nah, he’s into literature. Wants to get into a good school on a sports scholarship and then win a Pulitzer.”

“Like his brother, an overachiever.”

“Yeah… but he doesn’t have to. He can be average. I made sure of that.” Rufus had set up a fund for Kevin first thing. His brother wouldn’t ever have to worry about finances.

Silence fell for a moment, but it was a more comfortable silence. Not without pain or sorrow, because damn it, he missed his family, but without awkwardness.

He wanted to strangle Wyatt a little less, in other words.

Rufus hoped that continued.

“You know I used to read to him?” he asked. “Kevin, I mean.”

Wyatt looked over at him. “What did you read to him?”

“Well, _The Princess Bride_ , because I wanted to be the Grandpa from the movie…”

Wyatt listened to him for over an hour.


	9. Chapter 9

Wyatt was convinced that he’d never be allowed on a mission again after how badly the last one had gone. And for a couple of weeks, sure enough, he was back on house arrest.

He tried to keep busy by cleaning up the place—sweeping, doing the dishes, laundry, the stuff everyone else was too damn exhausted to bother with. Before, the dirty dishes in the sink and the stains on the couch hadn’t bothered him too much. Or if they had, it was too much for him to bother complaining when he’d been sprinting all day in a three piece suit and shooting and getting shot at and then coming home having lost again.

And maybe the state of the bathroom had pissed him off a bit, but it wasn’t like he’d had any time to do anything about it.

But now he had nothing on his hands other than time, so might as well use it.

He even taught himself how to fix the boiler to get them more hot water.

Okay, so he fixed the boiler after he tried to fix it the first time and broke it and Jiya cursed at him for an hour and then he fixed it properly while Mason laughed himself sick.

Thank God the others had been out on a mission, none of them would’ve let him hear the end of it.

He didn’t cook, though. Cooking was Flynn’s thing.

Although he did make an official grocery list for Denise, finally.

After about two weeks of this it had started to become a routine—one that he liked, one that soothed him. If he felt like shit, at least cleaning the toilet gave him the feeling that he’d done something. Vacuuming the place and finding the perfect places to put candles so it all smelled nice made him feel accomplished.

Five years ago he would’ve smacked himself for buying goddamn candles, but five years ago he also would’ve smacked himself for taking it up the ass from a guy and in light of that, really, deciding that ‘Ocean Breeze’ was the best scent for the kitchen was not something to freak out over.

He was just getting used to the routine, feeling something close to happy with it, when he woke up to the alarm and Denise said, “suit up.”

Wyatt looked over at Lucy. “You’re not going?”

He hadn’t officially apologized for hitting her. He wanted to, but she’d said she was tired of his apologies and he knew what she meant. But after she’d kicked both him and Flynn out that first night (leading to Flynn in Dave’s old bed and the most uncomfortable room-sharing situation Wyatt had ever had) she’d gone back to switching off sharing with them, and she’d thanked Wyatt for putting out the candles and cleaning up after dinner and sweeping the floor.

He hoped that meant he was on the right track.

Lucy shook her head. “Another soldier mission.”

“Seems like now that Rittenhouse is aiming to go public, given the current political climate, they want America to be a proper empire,” Denise said, voice tight and arms folded. “Making sure wars go more our way.”

“They’re going full Roman on this one,” Rufus muttered. “Funsies.”

“I want full cooperation this time,” Denise warned. “Flynn is in charge, and that’s final. I hear it went otherwise, I’ll skin you myself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Flynn didn’t look particularly happy about this. He’d been doing a fine job of pretending Wyatt didn’t exist.

There was the one time he walked into the kitchen to find Wyatt bent down trying to clean underneath the fridge (there had been a whole colony of terrifying mold under there that Wyatt _swore_ had developed sentience) and had gotten this look on his face that Wyatt still couldn’t quite identify—it had looked an awful lot like panic—but other than that, Flynn tended to manage the impressive feat of looking _through_ him.

Wyatt kind of wanted to snark at him, but he figured he’d used up his snarking points for, well, ever, so he just kept his mouth shut.

Lucy kissed Flynn goodbye, then Wyatt, her hand pressing over the ring hidden under Wyatt’s shirt. He didn’t take it off, and so far it had only been awkward once when he’d run into Flynn just out of the shower and Flynn had seen it around his neck, but he just couldn’t bear not to have it.

He knew Lucy couldn’t say what she wanted to. What she’d always said before, in their timeline, when it was the three of them. How she loved them both, needed them both to come back safely, and if they could look after each other on the trip.

But her hand pressed into the ring and he knew—that was her way of saying it.

He wanted to tell her that there wasn’t a chance of the three of them becoming a whole unit again. That the best they could probably hope for at this point was Flynn learning to tolerate him without looking like he was considering how to slip a laxative into Wyatt’s morning coffee.

But Lucy, bless her, still had hope. And he couldn’t squash that.

So he just nodded and said, “I love you,” and left it at that.

 

* * *

 

Flynn had to admit, Wyatt was actually… okay, this mission.

He wasn’t going to win any acting awards or anything. The guy was absolute shit at lying. And the only European language he spoke was German—his other three were from his tours in the Middle East—so he was dead useless for diplomacy this mission and would probably be dead useless for a lot of the others. And there’d been a time or ten where Flynn could feel Wyatt drilling holes into the back of his head with his gaze, probably because the idiot didn’t agree with Flynn’s decision.

But he followed orders well. In fact he followed Flynn’s orders instinctively, like he’d been doing it for years.

Maybe in their timeline, he had been.

It did very little to get rid of the stupid, annoying, ridiculous and inappropriate goddamn _want_ that shot through him at times, looking over at Wyatt. Like the cleaning. The goddamn cleaning, which required Wyatt to bend over and get on his knees and stretch up on his toes in every direction. Flynn had just about swallowed his tongue a few times.

Now, though, this mission, when Flynn had expected a shit ton of passive aggressive snarking, Wyatt had instead followed every order like—like doing what Flynn told him was coded into his DNA.

It was just the soldier thing, Flynn told himself. The guy was used to following the leader.

…but God if it didn’t make him wonder what other ways Wyatt would do what Flynn ordered.

And then it got nasty.

They were surrounded, no doubt about it, and in a shoot-out that Flynn had thought might happen but had been hoping to avoid. There was an exit, but there was no way they were getting out of this damn warehouse unless there was a good enough distraction.

“I can cover you,” Flynn told Rufus. “Dave, can you guard him?” None of them knew how to pilot the Lifeboat. Flynn had started to learn a little from Anthony, and a little more from Rufus, but he was still pretty out of his depth—and the Mothership had more user-friendly controls than the Lifeboat.

“Yeah.”

“Count of three. Wyatt, keep on the guy at the opposite door there.”

“Gotcha.”

“One, two, three!”

Rufus took off running, Dave right behind him, a hand on his shoulder, firing in one direction as Flynn covered them.

Now it was just him and Wyatt.

“I got an idea,” Wyatt said.

“It better be less of a disaster than the last one.”

“You remember those grenades we found earlier?”

Flynn managed to stare at the guy even while firing. “Don’t tell me.”

Wyatt pulled the grenade out, flashing him one of those smirking, dimpled smiles he had, the ones that slipped out when he was flirting with him.

Or when Flynn was pretty sure Wyatt was flirting with him. It wasn’t like he’d asked for confirmation.

“C’mon, don’t tell me this version of you doesn’t like big fiery explosions.” Wyatt waggled the grenade. “Next thing you’ll say is you don’t like Jane Austen.”

“There is no timeline where I won’t love Jane Austen,” Flynn said on autopilot, firing again and ignoring the stupid light fluffy cloud feeling in his chest.

“Great. So. I give you cover, then use the grenade.”

“…you’re going to give yourself time too, right?”

“Yes, Flynn, contrary to appearances and every single action I’ve made since you met me, I’m not a total id—”

Wyatt cut himself off as he managed to, despite their size difference, tackle Flynn to the ground, firing. Flynn felt something burning his side like he’d hit a hot pan on the stove, and then slammed into the concrete.

Ouch. He was definitely sleeping on his side tonight. It was like he could feel his spine bruising.

Flynn twisted his head and saw the guy on the floor, headshot, gun still in his hand.

“Motherfucker snuck around to the side,” Wyatt panted. His eyes were wide and panicked as he grabbed at Flynn’s jacket, his shirt, tugging to try and see the wound. “Are you—did it—”

“It just grazed,” Flynn replied. It would bleed a lot but the bullet had only nicked him.

“Go.” Wyatt fired again as Flynn got to his feet. “Go—”

“No, Wyatt, it’s too risk—”

“You almost just got shot, let me cover you, the grenade’ll cover my tracks.”

Flynn had about ten things he wanted to say to Wyatt, starting with _don’t think I don’t know why you’re so desperate to get me out of here_ , but that was a low blow. He could see the outline of the ring under Wyatt’s shirt, even if he rarely saw it out in the open.

“Make sure you’re clear,” he warned, and then ran.

He didn’t know what went wrong. His back was turned, so he didn’t know if it was another guy sneaking up from the side, or what, but the next thing he knew the grenade was going off.

He hadn’t even cleared the warehouse.

And Wyatt certainly hadn’t cleared himself.

Flynn went down, ears ringing, ash and the acrid smell of blood in the air. He coughed, eyes and throat burning. Fuck, shit, fuck, dammit—

He rolled over onto his stomach, his side screaming in protest, grabbed his gun—Wyatt—

There was enough smoke and debris, if he hurried…

He ran forward—there, slumped, fuck, blood—

Flynn ignored it and grabbed Wyatt, yanking him and yanking him and yanking him until they were clear, until Dave was running back and helping get Wyatt to standing. It felt like he couldn't get enough air, he could be yanking at a dead body for all that he knew, the world was still a bit tilted but he didn't care, fucking just get him onto the ship...

“Jesus—” Rufus said hoarsely as they stumbled into the Lifeboat.

“I’ll strap him in, just drive,” Flynn said, hearing his own voice and thinking, _it sounds like I smoked two packs._

Wyatt was scraped up pretty bad, and he was bleeding from cuts all over his head, and out of one ear, but Flynn didn’t feel any broken bones or see any internal bleeding when he lifted Wyatt’s shirt, no tell-tale bruising. Shit,  _shit_ he was one lucky bastard. Him and Wyatt both.

Wyatt started to regain consciousness as Flynn clicked the seatbelt into place and Flynn's heart did a fucking somersault. “Gar…”

“Shut up,” Flynn ordered. “What the hell was that, I said get clear!”

“Got jumped,” Wyatt slurred. “An’… was ‘nother guy aimin’ at you.”

The Texan was coming out of Wyatt’s voice, the accent he’d probably ruthlessly stifled while in Delta trying to blend in, turning his voice into a drawl that Flynn would’ve found sexy if it wasn’t for the current situation. “Do me a favor, Logan, and stop letting your emotions control you. If Rittenhouse knows that they’ll jerk you around all over the map.” His heart was still running the Kentucky Derby in his chest.

Wyatt gave him one of those little smirks. The effect was a bit ruined by the glassy look in his eyes. “Tha’s what ‘ve got you for.”

Then he passed out again.

 

* * *

 

Lucy hated flying in a tiny little tin can that hurtled itself through space and time, but she hated waiting around even more while her boys—and the fate of the world—was out of her hands.

There was the telltale noise and _whoosh_ of air, and then Flynn emerged—

Carrying Wyatt.

Lucy heard someone shriek, and thought, _who was that_ , and then realized that it was her. Flynn’s head shot up.

“He’s okay,” he croaked, sounding pretty damn awful himself. He looked awful too, scraped up, his shirt sticking to his side, thick with blood, dust all over him. But Wyatt was slumped against him, unconscious, blood sliding down from his ear and his temple…

Lucy ran over, her heart pounding wildly, painfully. “Wyatt, sweetheart, Wyatt!”

“He’s okay,” Flynn repeated.

“What happened?” Denise demanded.

Amy appeared with the first aid kid while Flynn explained what had happened—a fucking grenade, _a fucking grenade_ —and Dave and Rufus got Wyatt onto the couch.

Lucy grabbed his hands, rubbing them, like she could will her spirit into him if she worked up enough warmth.

Wyatt started to stir as Amy cleaned him up, his eyes fluttering open. “Garcia?” he whispered.

“He’s safe.”

Wyatt’s eyes focused and landed on her. “Luce…”

“Shh, shh, don’t talk, you’re okay.” She bent over and Amy had to dodge out of the way as Lucy kissed him on the forehead. “You’re here, you’re safe.”

Wyatt squeezed her hands. “Head hurts.”

“Concussion,” Amy said. “Not surprising seeing as you nearly took a grenade to the face.”

Lucy felt wet warmth on her face and realized she was crying. She would’ve wiped at her eyes, but she didn’t want to let go of Wyatt. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s fine,” Flynn said, walking up. “And before you ask, this is just a scrape.” He pointed at his bloody shirt. “Wyatt pushed me out of the way. We’re fine, he just needs to rest.”

 _It could’ve been a lot worse_ , she wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t have helped any.

Amy stood up. “Well, he’s all bandaged. And a lucky son of a bitch. Now where’s my handsome hero?”

“Getting a beer,” Dave called from the kitchen.

Amy skipped over to give him a ‘glad you’re not dead’ kiss or ten.

Lucy gently put Wyatt’s hands down. He should be in a bed, but she suspected he wasn’t going to move for a while. She stood up, unbuttoning Flynn’s shirt and opening up Amy’s first aid kit. “Merely a flesh wound, and all that?”

Flynn nodded, hissing a little as she peeled the shirt away. “Looks worse than it is.”

She knew that. She could recognize a lot of different wounds now, after all this time, and she hated that she was becoming what one might consider an expert at such a thing. “It’ll be a nice handsome scar for all the ladies to admire.”

“Oh yes, all the ladies who routinely see me with my shirt off,” Flynn replied, rolling his eyes fondly.

Lucy started cleaning the wound. “How was he?” she asked, voice low.

“A lot better. Didn’t snark at me once, although I could see him biting the words back.”

“And you?”

“I was nice, _cher_ , I promise.”

“You have a different definition of ‘nice’ than most people, Garcia Flynn.”

She bandaged the wound. Looked like athletic sex would be off the table for a week or so. Pity.

“He said… he said something. Wyatt. He was pretty out of it by that point but I told him he lets his emotions get ahead of him.” Flynn winced as she tightened the bandage. “He saved my life, Lucy, but he put his own at risk so I’d have a better chance at getting out. That grenade—it could’ve killed him even if it went properly, and I’m positive—he only used it to get me out of there.”

“Wyatt’s never been very level headed when it comes to his feelings for others,” Lucy admitted. Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“He said that was what he had me for. What did that mean?”

“It means that… you’re the one Wyatt counted on to keep him in line, in a lot of ways. When he got too emotional—you were the logical one. You were the one that he counted on to keep a cool head in a crisis. You two balanced each other out that way. You’re calculating, Wyatt’s a hot head. I didn’t really think about it too much it was just… how it was. If Wyatt got too emotional you reined him in.”

Flynn nodded, as if processing all that. Lucy gave his bandage a final pat and stood up. “I’m going to sit with him until he can get himself to bed.”

Flynn nodded, pulling her in and holding her. Lucy rested her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat—his strong, steady, glorious proof of life—underneath her ear.

“I know I’ve been kind of focusing on him lately,” she whispered. “But I—to think that something might’ve happened to you—I love you, Garcia. _Je t’aime tellement que ça me fait mal._ ”

Flynn held her a little tighter. “ _Je sais. Volim te._ ”

It was one of the few Croatian phrases she knew.

He kissed the top of her head. “You should sleep with him tonight. Can’t have you leeching all my warmth with this stupid thing.”

“Okay. But I’m back in your bed tomorrow night, wound or no wound.” She didn’t want to sleep without either of them tonight. She wanted them both, on either side of her, warm and real and alive.

Lucy held Flynn tighter, as tight as she dared with his bandage, and looked over at Wyatt, dozing, still covered in dirt and grime on the couch.

She’d probably have to resign herself to forever being split between them, but not yet.

Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je t'aime tellement que ca me fait mal = I love you so much it hurts. (French)  
> Je sais = I know. (French)  
> Volim te = I love you. (Croatian)


	10. Chapter 10

Wyatt couldn’t really remember the last few days.

He knew he woke up at some point, fuzzy, and moved from the couch to his bed.

On and off he would feel a warm weight wrapped around him, he’d smell sandalwood and coconut and think, _Lucy_ , and then he’d doze off again.

When he finally woke up for good, though, it was to the sound of clicking.

Wyatt opened his eyes, rubbing at them, wincing as he tugged at some scrapes on his face.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Denise said.

Wyatt turned to see her sitting by the bed, knitting. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days,” Denise replied. “We ended up having to get your ear checked out, and you had to recover from the concussion.”

Wyatt instinctively reached up towards his ear. He was hearing fine, or he thought he was…

“You’re fine, we just had to drain some of the fluid. You don’t remember that, do you?”

He shook his head.

“I didn’t think so. You had some memory issues from the concussion for a bit.”

Oh, fuck. That must’ve scared Lucy shitless. “How…”

“The doctors assured Lucy it was temporary. They had every faith in your recovery.”

Wyatt relaxed. Thank God. “Where are they now?”

“Mission.”

He sat up, wincing a little as the room tilted. “Have I eaten?”

“Not really.”

“…I should do that.” He grabbed the glass of water by the bed and drank deeply, trying not to gulp it down.

“That was good, what you did,” Denise added.

Wyatt nearly choked on his water. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it was a little too self-sacrificing for my taste and I’d like to see you taking better care of yourself in the future. We’re a small team and every member counts.” Denise frowned down at her knitting, as if it was a difficult child. “But Flynn said you did good, followed orders, and you saved his life.”

“…thank you.”

“You’re still on probation,” Denise said. “But I’m glad to see you’re finally shaping up. Keep this up and we’ll have you in the rotation for missions. Dave and Flynn sure could use the break.”

She gathered up her knitting and stood. “Now go take a shower.”

“…yes ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Wyatt took a shower, cleaned the kitchen, and then endured (gladly) Lucy’s tackle hug when the Lifeboat returned and she saw him walking around.

“You complete idiot Wyatt Logan—I love you but don’t you _ever_ —I’m so glad you’re okay—”

“I think I could get used to being fussed over,” he teased her, wincing when she smacked him in the chest.

“I’m taking a shower,” she warned him. “Don’t think this is over.”

“Of course.”

Lucy kissed him, soft but taking her time, clearly uncaring that her sister, second husband, and friends were all mingling nearby. “Don’t plan on getting a lot of sleep tonight.”

…well that sent a shiver down his spine. “Okay,” he choked out. Lucy with a plan was sexy in that very overwhelming and slightly terrifying kind of way.

Lucy went off. Flynn almost brushed past him, then paused. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet,” he said, sounding a little… off balance.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wyatt knew he sounded stupid even as the words came out of his mouth. He’d once flirted with Flynn every day, how could he be so tongue-tied now? “Your side okay?”

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, swallowing down the instinct to scream. He wanted to punch Flynn again, or grab him and shake him, to yell at him _of course I saved you, of course, it wasn’t even a choice, if you’d died I think something in me would’ve shattered and the shards would’ve lodged so I felt it every time I breathed._

But that was the last thing Flynn wanted to hear. Declaring your undying love for someone, Wyatt was steadily realizing, was all well and good if it was a Hollywood film and the music was swelling, but in real life when you didn’t really have the right to tell them, when you knew the timing was awful or they wouldn’t return your feelings…

All it would do was burden Flynn again. He already knew how Wyatt felt.

“Uh, how’d the, um, the mission go?” he asked instead.

Flynn blinked a couple of times, like he’d zoned out or something. “Ah. Yeah. It was—you know. Some days I feel like we’re ten steps behind.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence. Then Flynn jerked his thumb towards the hallway. “I’m going to…”

“Right, no, of course.”

Flynn nodded, made a face that looked like fifty percent confusion and fifty percent self-annoyance with a dash of mental swearing, and then walked away.

“Well that was awkward,” Dave noted as he walked up, grabbing a glass of water.

“Thanks, man, I needed that pointed out to me. Couldn’t tell on my own.”

Dave snorted. “Thanks for all the cleaning you’ve been doing. None of us have the time, this place was a mess.”

“Yeah, I saw a couple spiderwebs and I thought about leaving them to scare you but then I thought, nah, I’ll be a good friend and make sure a wolf spider doesn’t give Bam Bam a heart attack and kill him.”

“Hardy, har, har,” Dave replied. “They give me the heebie jeebies, that’s all.”

“Sure thing man, it’s not like you shrieked and ran out of the tent when we put a tarantula in your bed.”

“That happened in your timeline too?” Dave shook his head. “Assholes, all of you. That thing was huge.”

“It was a cute little fuzzy wuzzy, non poisonous. People keep ‘em as pets.”

“It was the size of my _hand_ , Logan.”

“Tell me, does Amy know about this phobia of yours?”

“Amy is my fierce protector against the evil eight-legged mini demons of the world.”

“Aww, true love.”

Dave flipped him off and Wyatt felt like he could float away with how light he was feeling. He’d missed Dave, hated that it was his fault the guy died, but to have Dave right in front of him and barely caring about him, not knowing him, not his friend… it had felt like yet another hole in his chest, one to go along with the ones for Denise and Flynn.

Joking with him like this felt like something precious, something Wyatt had finally managed to earn. He couldn’t take it for granted.

“Hey, you want to watch a movie tonight?” His heart was in his throat. It was like he was back in elementary school and hoping to make friends, not knowing how to talk to anyone, scared and feeling swallowed up by all the people around him.

“Yeah.” Dave grinned. “That’d be fun.”

Wyatt shocked himself by almost bursting into tears.

 

* * *

 

“Hey there.”

Flynn jumped a mile as Amy spoke, gripping the door handle tightly and nearly bashing his head against the frame. “Jesus, Preston, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?”

“I lost count.” Amy smirked, leaning against the wall. “But your reaction is just too good to pass up.”

“What are you up to?” Flynn sighed.

Amy shrugged. “I just wanted to check in. See how you were doing.”

Flynn peered at her. His relationship with Amy was… rather how he imagined most sibling relationships went. He and Jiya were surprisingly similar, he’d found, and he loved her like a little sister—but Amy he loved like the little sister that he simultaneously wanted to hug and strangle.

“Come in here,” he said, opening the door again and leading her into the bedroom.

Amy closed the door behind them. “So? Warming up to our new roommate?”

“He’s learning to behave himself,” Flynn acknowledged.

“Uh-huh.” Amy sat on the bed, bouncing a little. “Look, Lucy’s my sister. I’m gonna advocate whatever makes her happy. You and I know the shit she’s gone through. Maybe it was slightly different shit for her in her timeline but it still stinks.”

“…yes.” Flynn folded his arms, still waiting for the punchline.

“So if it makes her happy to have both of you, and that means she’s okay with putting up with sharing you, doing this back and forth thing—I’m not going to tell her no. But I care about you too. You’re my brother. Legally and emotionally. So—how are you doing? With all of this… wacky, weird, probably somewhat annoying situation?”

Flynn inhaled, ready to make a snarky remark… and paused.

Amy was similar to him in one very important way, he’d found: she used sass a little too often, even when she meant to be serious. They were all sarcastic assholes in this bunker, especially Rufus when he really got going (or had a drink or three in him) but Amy was the one who consistently used sass to try and reach someone, to put them at ease, to make them laugh and give in and talk to her.

If she asked if he was okay, then she meant it. He should probably return the favor.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I miss having Lucy with me all the time. I’m not sure how I feel about… sharing her.”

“You’re a one and done kind of guy?”

“I mean, if I was in love with Wyatt too then, I’m sharing someone I love romantically with someone else I love romantically, it’s—it’s fine, then.”

“And it’ll rain cats and dogs before you and Wyatt do anything like that.”

Flynn arched an eyebrow at her. “Not sure I like your tone, missy.”

“I mean, he’s hot, I’m not blind. The personality takes him down from a solid nine to a four, but, y’know, if you can get him to stop talking…”

“Ha, ha.”

“So you’re not jealous? This isn’t something—you’re not sacrificing yourself for Lucy. And don’t—” Amy held up a hand. “—try to tell me that you wouldn’t swallow what you wanted to give Lucy something she wanted, we both know that’s a fucking lie.”

“Look, when I said I don’t know, Ames, I don’t know. I don’t hate the guy. I never did, really, I don’t think I mean he pisses me the fuck off but he’s… I don’t know.” He wanted to fuck Wyatt stupid and that was the only thing he was certain about. When it came to looking at his feelings it was this odd jumble of frustration and annoyance and protectiveness and amusement and Flynn couldn’t even begin to unknot it all. It was like the world’s worst ball of tangled Christmas lights.

“But I’m not being taken advantage of here, Amy, I promise. Lucy and I are good. Until I figure out whatever… my thing is with Wyatt, then I can’t say that I’m happy or unhappy with it. But I just don’t know.”

Amy nodded. “It’s okay to not know. I just wanted to check. Because… we talk a lot about how Lucy deserves to be happy. But you were unhappy for a long time too, and you deserve happiness just as much as she does.”

She got up and went to move around him, to grab the door, but Flynn grabbed her, pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Preston.”

Amy hugged him back. “Sure thing, bro.”

 

* * *

 

Lucy nearly knocked into Rufus getting out of the shower. “Whoa, sorry!”

“No, no, sorry, I was rushing.” Rufus grinned at her. “All fresh and sparkly?”

“As I can be. What’s with the DVDs?”

“Jiya and I are having a night in, doing a little marathon on the computer, eating junk food, playing cards.”

“Aww, sweet.”

Rufus hovered for a second. “Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

He cleared his throat. “You’re—you’re doing good, with this whole thing?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “The boys are starting to… well, they’re not fighting, anyway.”

“I noticed. It’s kind of cute the way watching a baby horse try to walk and fall over is cute. I don’t think they know what to do with each other now that they’re not trying to beat the crap out of each other.”

Lucy’s heart squeezed. “Yeah…”

“Kind of reminds me—in my timeline, the first one, or at least, the first one I remember—how they got when the three of you started to get together.”

“Rufus—”

“I’m not trying to give you false hope or anything,” he added quickly. “I just… you weren’t there, for that. You just remember them already together. And I know this has been hard. So I just wanted to say… the first time was rough too. And I think they’re working towards a better place with each other.”

Lucy’s chest felt warm. None of them deserved Rufus. She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Rufus. Really. I appreciate it.”

Rufus’s grin grew a little more serious. “Of course, Lucy.”

She squeezed his arm. “I’m going to go and get dressed.”

“Oh, yeah, go, this place is drafty.” Rufus waved her off.

Lucy tried not to put too much weight into Rufus’s words. Sure, the last mission had gone well, at least as far as the two men cooperating together. Both of them seemed to be avoiding confrontation, which was good. But did she dare ask for more, even in her own heart?

She wanted to, and she wasn’t giving up, not yet, but she also feared it might be too soon to consider Wyatt and Flynn as moving into anything beyond tentative housemates.

Because while she couldn’t give up… she also couldn’t get her heart broken.

Should she encourage them? Remind Flynn about her offer of bed sharing? Say nothing? Sit them both down?

Something had to give soon, she thought sternly, or she was going to lose her goddamn mind.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt waited until Lucy was asleep before sliding out of bed.

He ached all over in that pleasant, exhausted way, the way he always did after a long session with Lucy. He was sure if he looked in the mirror he’d see a fuckton of bruises and bitemarks on his chest. It made him want to go around shirtless, a silent testament that yes, he was hers, completely and utterly.

But right now, he had another agenda.

The entire bunker was asleep in the wee hours. There was no better time.

Wyatt slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Flynn knew something was different the moment he stepped out into the hallway in the morning.

Was that… had someone been baking?

He walked out into the main room, following the smell, on high alert. Not that he thought he’d find Emma sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of ironically-made cinnamon rolls in front of her or anything, but still. Best to be prepared.

What he wasn’t prepared for was to find a batch of paprenjak sitting in a neat pile on a plate on the table, with a post-it note attached that said, _good morning, sorry again for being an asshole._

Below that was another post-it note: _also sorry for messing up the grenade._

Flynn looked over to the left.

Wyatt was passed out on the couch, dead asleep.

Flynn walked over to the cookies, touching them softly, as if to make sure they were real. He was half-convinced that he might actually be dreaming right now.

His grandmother, his father’s mom, had taught Maria how to make paprenjak. Maria could never make it to her mother-in-law’s satisfaction, but Flynn had never minded. He’d thought Mom’s cookies were perfect.

How had Wyatt known to make these? The recipe was in Flynn’s mess of a recipe box up on the shelf but he hadn’t made these cookies since Wyatt appeared. Wyatt wouldn’t have even known what to look for unless…

…unless in another timeline, Flynn had trusted Wyatt enough to make the cookies, to show him the recipe, to tell him the story behind it.

Lucy wouldn’t have told. She was doing a remarkable job with the difficult task of remaining neutral in all this, and besides, she wouldn’t have betrayed Flynn’s trust in sharing such intimate information.

His other self must have told Wyatt, then. And now Wyatt was using that to apologize.

Flynn looked over at Wyatt on the couch. He must’ve gotten up at the crack of dawn to do this. Especially if he’d never done it before. But there was no sign of a mess. No sign of burnt cookies. Just the plate of perfectly-baked cookies sitting on the plate and one exhausted Wyatt, with flour and dough smeared on his face and even… yup, yeah, there was some in his hair too.

Flynn walked over to him and then paused. What was he going to do? Wake him up? Thank him? Clean him up?

He grabbed the throw blanket and pulled it over Wyatt instead. The guy didn’t even stir.

Then Flynn went to find Lucy.

 

* * *

 

Lucy had thought, once upon a more innocent time, that doing her hair every day was exhausting.

Sixty-five victory curls later (and yes, she was counting) she now understood what true exhaustion was.

Given the fact that they ran back into whatever time at a moment’s notice, her hair was usually lacking, and she’d gotten a few looks every mission as others picked up on her disheveled appearance and wondered what kind of lazy woman she was to let her hair go like that.

So here she was, practicing victory curls, so that she could get them done as fast as possible.

There was a knock at the door—to the tune of ‘Shave and a Haircut’. Lucy smiled.

“Come on in, Garcia.”

Flynn opened the bathroom door, closing it behind him. “Still on the hair?”

“Unfortunately.”

She could tell from the way Flynn kept wetting his lips that he wanted to say something. Lucy kept on doing her hair. He’d get it out eventually, and this wasn’t one of those rare times where she needed to push.

After a few moments, Flynn said, “I’ve been thinking about your idea.”

Lucy thought she knew what he meant, and her heart thundered in her chest. She kept her tone as neutral as she could as she replied, “What idea?”

Flynn gave her a _you’re not fooling anyone_ look. “The idea that Wyatt sleep with us at night so that you don’t have to keep moving back and forth.”

“It would be nice to have all my clothes in one closet again.” She winked at him through the mirror and Flynn rolled his eyes, biting down hard on his lip to stifle his smile.

“Look, I’m just saying… I wouldn’t mind, if you wanted us both to share the bed. It’s big enough for a third, anyway. You were right that we haven’t been making this easy for you and it’s… it’s just sleeping. It’s not like I have to sit up all night and braid his hair.”

Lucy finished her curls and stepped back, pressing against Flynn’s chest and tilting her head up. “And it has nothing to do with you staring at him in those jeans of his.”

“I—I do not—that’s not—” Flynn sighed. “I don’t stare _just_ at his ass.”

“Oh I’m sure. His dick’s pretty nice, too.”

“Lucy.”

“Garcia.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“This isn’t—we’re just sharing a bed. Nothing else. This is for you.”

“Of course,” she replied. One battle at a time and all that.

“Good.” Flynn flushed a little. “So you’ll tell him?”

Lucy grabbed his wrists before he could step back, wrapping his arms around her. “Oh no, handsome. We’re telling him together.”

Flynn rested his chin on top of her head, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You’re going to make this as hard for me as possible, aren’t you?”

“I’m sure Wyatt will be making things… hard as well.”

“Why did I ever marry you?”

“Because I’m darling and the light of your life.” She tilted her face up again and kissed him on the chin. “But seriously, Garcia. Thank you. And we won’t—it’ll just be sleep. If that’s what you want. I’ll even be in the middle.”

Flynn nodded, his face soft but unreadable. “If it makes you happy, then I’m happy.”

Lucy put more of her weight against Flynn, feeling proper butterflies bubble up in her chest again. “It makes me happy.”

More than that—it made her hope.


	11. Chapter 11

Wyatt was scrounging around in the back of the fridge to figure out what was needed for the grocery list when he heard Lucy clear her throat.

He just about banged his head on the fridge in surprise.

“Lucy.” He pulled out of the fridge, standing up—only to see Flynn with her.

He glanced around. There was nobody else in the main room.

“…am I in trouble?” he asked.

“No,” Lucy said quickly. “We had… an idea.”

Wyatt glanced over at Flynn, who looked like he’d been asked to jump off a cliff into the ocean while blindfolded and with his hands tied.

“We were thinking,” Flynn said, his voice taking on that careful, neutral tone that it did whenever he had something to say that he thought might freak Wyatt out. “…that you could join us. In bed—sleeping, in bed,” he added quickly.

Right. Because of course Flynn wouldn’t want Wyatt to think for even a second that Flynn was actually interested in him, physically or otherwise.

“Please?” Lucy asked.

It would be easier than having Lucy swap back and forth, that was for sure. But having Flynn so close to him… yet so far…

Wyatt looked at Lucy’s hopeful face. He couldn’t say no to that.

He looked over at Flynn. “Are you sure?”

Flynn nodded. “I’ve bunked with worse and I’m sure you have too. It’ll just be easier.”

Wyatt couldn’t really be angry at Flynn for wanting to make Lucy happy. “Sure, then,” he said, the words feeling scraped out of his throat like sandpaper. “Sounds good. It’ll be just sleeping, right?”

“Yes,” Flynn said quickly, like he was trying to reassure Wyatt.

Yeah.

Wyatt wanted to bang his head against the wall. Fuck his life.

 

* * *

 

Flynn made sure to catch Lucy in the shower that evening after the mission. He rapped on the tiles as he entered, and she jumped in surprise, clutching the soap to her chest. “Garcia, dammit, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Just trying to conserve the hot water.”

“Lying isn’t a good look on you, Mr. Flynn,” Lucy replied, crooking her finger at him so that he joined her under the warm spray.

“Oh, using the ‘mister’, clearly I’m in trouble.”

Lucy laughed, hooking her fingers under his chin and guiding him down to kiss her, getting up on her tiptoes. “Mmm, yes, so much trouble…”

Flynn hadn’t believed that he was worthy of good things. He’d struggled with that idea all of his life, actually. Maria had loved him, and he never doubted that, but she’d had the ghost of Gabriel always in her eyes, and Asher had made their home life far from happy, and Flynn himself had never been as ‘Croatian’ as his father or grandmother had wanted. Never fitting in either in America or in Croatia.

Lorena had made him feel valued, made him feel like he could be the kind of person who fit in somewhere, who was deserving. And then all of that had vanished like smoke. He’d become a different person. Sometimes, it almost felt like the man who existed today, the one who loved Lucy, who time traveled, was born the day he met Lucy Preston in São Paulo. The man who’d loved Lorena and Iris, the man who’d married Lorena, who fathered that precious little girl… he’d died with them, in his own way.

And the man he became wasn’t worthy of anything.

But now he had Lucy, Lucy who teased him and invited him into her heart and her life, Lucy who wound her arms around him and jumped into his arms in the shower without even second-guessing, knowing he’d catch her. The trust she placed in him made his heart swell and ache.

Sometimes he saw that trust in Wyatt, too, when Wyatt listened to him, when Wyatt obeyed him on a mission.

He found that, like with Lucy, he wanted Wyatt to trust him all the time. He was greedy for Wyatt’s trust, and he had no idea what to do with that.

…so he put it out of his mind and focused back in on having sex with his gorgeous wife.

Lucy was in a playful mood, biting at his lips as he kissed her, stroking him slowly, loosely, until he was bucking up into her hand and growling against her mouth.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Lucy whispered, rubbing her thumb over the slit, “I’d say you want something.”

“Lucy… come on, please.”

“Mmm, repeat that for me?”

“Please, Lucy.”

“Please what?”

“Let me fuck you.”

Lucy purred, licking drops of water from his neck. “Go ahead.”

He slid into her, relishing the way she tightened around him, drawing him into her. Lucy was a lover simultaneously generous and greedy, demanding all he could give and more, but always giving just as much back in return. He fucked her hard, fast, knowing they were on a bit of a time crunch here with the whole communal bathroom thing.

Lucy gasped, clawing at his back. “Yes, _yes_ , right there—” She moaned a little. “Mmm, God, and here I was—thinking of waiting until—bed—stupid of me—”

“Figured we should do it now… what with the new roommate,” Flynn pointed out, as Lucy bit his shoulder and shuddered when he got just the right angle.

Lucy laughed breathlessly.

“What?”

One of her nails caught his nipple and he groaned.

“Wyatt wouldn’t—wouldn’t be uncomfortable,” Lucy informed him, her head tipping back, giving him access to those gorgeous breasts of hers. “He’s—he’d want to watch…”

Holy shit.

The idea honestly hadn’t occurred to Flynn. He wasn’t an exhibitionist by any means. But the image of Wyatt standing there, blue eyes gone dark, mouth open and slack as he touched himself while Lucy had her way with Flynn, as he fucked her the way she liked—

He got his hand between them, finding Lucy’s clit and working it because he was close, holy—the very idea of—

Lucy sucked hard at his collarbone as she came, no doubt leaving a mark of some kind, and Flynn tore his hand away to brace against the tile, get leverage to fuck into her a final few times as he absolutely lost it.

To his surprise, it wasn’t just the feel and image of Lucy that pushed him over.

It was the thought of Wyatt’s face, slack with ecstasy, watching them do it.

 

* * *

 

Lucy had never in her life seen two openly not-straight men be more awkward about getting into bed together.

Wyatt changed into his boxers and t-shirt in the bathroom, like he thought even a glimpse of his naked skin would scandalize and offend Flynn. Then he hovered over in the corner, waiting for Flynn to get into bed first before joining on Lucy’s other side.

Flynn, for his part, went to bed in his usual flannel pants and no shirt, and Lucy wasn’t blind—she saw how Wyatt’s eyes bugged out at the sight of Flynn’s bare chest, probably the first time the poor guy had seen it in months—but Flynn didn’t notice because he was playing a game called ‘don’t look at Wyatt’.

Honestly. This was ridiculous.

She settled into the middle of the bed, a rush of happiness washing over her as she felt Wyatt cuddle up to her on one side and Flynn sprawl out on the other, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow. She’d missed this so much it had started to feel like a permanent ache in her chest.

Now, though… now she had them both again.

It still hurt in the sense that it wasn’t the same as before. She couldn’t forget how affectionate Flynn and Wyatt had been with each other when they’d been together, how Wyatt would curl into Flynn and drape himself over him like a lazy puppy, or how Flynn would idly reach over and trace patterns in Wyatt’s skin like the palm of his hand, his shoulder, his chest. She knew that Wyatt was still hurting, and Flynn was confused, and she was the only reason they were doing this. It was for her, not because they would’ve chosen this on their own.

But it was a step. She had to keep reminding herself of that. Flynn had admitted, at least to her, that he was attracted to Wyatt and he cared about Wyatt at least as a human being, and didn’t seem ready to punch the guy at a moment’s notice anymore. And Wyatt was doing ten times better. The last few weeks had been a breath of fresh air compared to the ones that had come before.

So she settled in bed, let her boys cocoon her, and decided to focus on the good instead of worry about the steps they had yet to take.

“Are you finally warm enough?” Wyatt teased. “Heat stealer?”

“Personal space heaters don’t talk,” Lucy replied smugly, draping his arm over her waist and nuzzling into Flynn’s neck.

The boys carefully weren’t touching each other, only her, but she ignored that and thought instead about how she was very warm and feeling very safe and very much adored.

She was asleep in moments.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt woke up slowly, feeling beautifully content for the first time in months. He could feel Lucy in his arms, a warm, sleeping weight, and just on her other side he could sense Flynn—the heat of him, the smell of him, the way the mattress shifted slightly from Flynn’s weight.

He tightened his hold on Lucy. Oh, thank God, it had all just been an awful dream. Thank God.

He buried his nose in her hair and opened his eyes, breathing in deeply.

The first thing he saw were Lucy and Flynn’s hands, tangled together on the bed. Their wedding rings shone softly…

Wyatt’s heart stopped.

Lucy’s ring was right—but Flynn’s was wrong.

Wyatt concentrated—and felt it, hanging around his neck.

Flynn’s other wedding ring. The one for all three of them.

Wyatt shut his eyes, burrowing deeper into Lucy’s hair, his eyes growing hot and his chest tightening.

It hadn’t been a dream.

All of yesterday came rushing back: the conversation, the agreement, the awkwardness of lying in bed, the person he wanted just a foot or two away, unable to touch, knowing that he was barely welcome.

God, he just wanted the mattress to swallow him up. _Hey, Freddy Krueger, are you there? It’s me, Wyatt._

He felt Flynn shifting and his eyes opened again instinctively.

Flynn blinked slowly, waking up, his gaze sharpening when he saw Wyatt spooning with Lucy.

There was a moment of silence and Wyatt honestly couldn’t tell if it was uncomfortable or not.

“She really loves you,” Flynn murmured softly, his accent thick and his voice rough first thing in the morning.

Wyatt swallowed, trying to banish the lump in his throat. “For some reason, yeah.”

Flynn’s gaze trailed over where Wyatt’s arm was draped over Lucy’s waist, where his face pressed into her hair, where their legs tangled. “You really love her.”

Wyatt tightened his hold on her instinctively. “More than anything.” _Just as I love you._ The words stuck in his throat.

Flynn reached out, and for a moment Wyatt thought Flynn was going to touch him—and then Flynn tucked some of Lucy’s hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her cheek.

The look on his face was heartbreaking in its intensity, the clarity of its devotion. If nothing else, Wyatt supposed, they were united in their worship of her.

Lucy’s nose wrinkled a little, but she didn’t stir.

“I’m going to make coffee,” Flynn whispered. He sat up, and Wyatt had to look away. He’d forgotten that Flynn slept without a shirt. Fuck. “You want some?”

Wyatt looked up. Flynn was looking at him expectantly.

“You’re—you’re asking if I want coffee?”

Flynn nodded. His cheeks looked ever so slightly pink.

Great, the last thing Wyatt had wanted to do was embarrass the guy. “Um, yes, thanks.”

“Black?”

Once upon a time he’d pretended that, yeah, but Flynn had seen right through that bullshit. “Um, two sugars and some cream, please.” Lucy took hers with two sugars and a drop of milk. Wyatt preferred cream. He preferred hazelnut, too, but that was back in the old timeline, when Flynn had asked Denise to put some on the grocery list. This timeline… Wyatt was in charge of the grocery list, and he’d hidden the hazelnut in the back of the cupboard behind Jiya and Mason’s tea collection.

Flynn looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Be back soon.”

Wyatt watched him go, then held onto Lucy and very carefully didn’t think about anything.

 

* * *

 

Goddammit, where was it?

Flynn knew Wyatt put some kind of flavoring in his coffee. He was careful to hide it, but then, Wyatt was careful to hide a lot of things. Flynn had once heard him singing, very softly, in the bathroom, but Wyatt had stopped the moment he’d heard someone walking past the door. Another time, Dave had been trying to teach Amy how to waltz, which was going about as disastrously and adorably as one might imagine, and Lucy had turned to ask Wyatt to dance, and Wyatt had cut her off before she could finish opening her mouth, shaking his head and darting his gaze around to see if anyone had noticed.

Flynn couldn’t be sure, of course. He’d never asked the guy. But he suspected that the things Wyatt hid were the things that were in some way related to the other Flynn. The Flynn that Wyatt was in love with.

It made Flynn’s chest tighten unpleasantly, his stomach twisting. Just discomfort, most likely. He wasn’t the other Flynn, but he was a reminder of him for Wyatt, and that… that sucked, honestly, for both parties involved.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder about his other self. If he’d handled Wyatt better, if he’d had more patience, if he was… better, somehow, for Wyatt. Because right now, he clearly wasn’t. Wyatt was mostly to blame for this mess but it wasn’t like the two of them got along all that well in general.

Ah-ha! He’d hidden it behind the insane amount of tea that Jiya and Mason collected.

Hazelnut, huh?

Flynn put a couple splashes in Wyatt’s coffee, then took the three mugs (that was going to take some practice) and carried them carefully back to the bedroom.

Lucy stirred as he brought the coffee over, lured awake by the smell. She smiled up at him, humming softly. “Mmm, morning handsome.”

“ _Dobro jutro_ ,” he replied, passing her the mug as she sat up.

Lucy kissed him softly, lingering, then settled against the pillows to sip at her coffee. Flynn passed Wyatt his. Wyatt was careful not to touch him as he took his mug, avoiding Flynn’s eyes. He settled back on Lucy’s other side, staring quietly down at her lap as he took his first sip.

His eyes went wide, and then darted up to look at Flynn.

Flynn took a sip of his own coffee (black with one sugar) and stared back at him, daring Wyatt to say something.

Wyatt looked away, continuing to sip the coffee, saying nothing.

If Lucy noticed the stilted atmosphere or the silent exchange, she tactfully chose not to mention it. Flynn settled in on her other side, feeling himself smile dopily as she curled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder while her hand tangled with Wyatt’s in her lap.

If nothing else, Lucy was happy. He’d put up with whatever weird thing he and Wyatt had going on for the sake of her.


	12. Chapter 12

Lucy loved her husbands. She did. She loved them with all her heart until her dying day.

Having said that, she was also going to murder the both of them.

Preferably by banging their heads together.

Wyatt she could understand a bit better. He knew that Flynn knew how he felt, and he was struggling to make sure Flynn wasn’t uncomfortable. Lucy could sympathize. But was he really incapable of realizing the way Flynn was reacting around him, the way Flynn behaved?

She’d stayed up late one night, going over things, and came into the room to find Wyatt and Flynn had migrated to the middle of the bed in their sleep, Flynn’s arm flung over Wyatt’s back protectively, Wyatt’s face tucked securely into the crook of Flynn’s neck. She’d wriggled in between them, knowing they’d be embarrassed if they woke up and realized how they were, but she also wanted to film it to show to them later so they could stop awkwardly crab-walking around each other every morning and refusing to look at each other.

That was another thing—bye bye morning quickies in bed. A lot of the time she was woken up by the damn alarm but on the days she wasn’t she quite enjoyed one of her boys kissing her into wakefulness. But now that it was both men, instead of being goddamn grownups and teaming up on it, they were both just avoiding sex altogether.

Lucy liked wall sex as much as the next person, but there were only so many stolen moments she could take before she got tired of Wyatt or Flynn—whichever one she was with at the time—panicking that the other would walk in.

God, _especially_ Wyatt.

He seemed to still be under the impression that he was an intruder, or that Flynn somehow had more of a right to her than he did, and so he was practically clandestine about fucking her.

“You know I’m married to both of you, right?” Lucy told Wyatt at one point.

She’d just gotten spectacularly fucked in the equipment closet and she wasn’t at all complaining about getting to play the ‘How Long Can Wyatt Hold Out Before He Comes’ game.

The answer for today, she was pleased to note, was twenty minutes. Her whispering in his ear about all the things she’d do to him once they had more time and a proper bed to themselves might have had something to do with that.

“What?” Wyatt asked, trying to find where his shirt had gotten to. She might—might—have torn it a little and then thrown it up onto the high shelf.

“I’m married to both of you,” Lucy repeated. “I’m not going to be ashamed about having sex with either of you.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“You’re doing a great job of acting like it.”

Wyatt shuffled his feet a little. How the man could be so confident about some things and woefully self-deprecating about others… she wished she could figure it out. “Look, I know—the others, they probably wonder why you’re still with me. And I know Flynn—he’s being really generous, y’know, I don’t want to rub it in his face.”

Lucy took Wyatt’s chin in her hand and tilted it up so that he had to look her in the eye. “Wyatt. Flynn and I discussed this already. He respects my love for both of you. If he didn’t, he would talk to me about it. And I don’t care what the others might or might not think about it. All right? I’m not going to act like this is some… some Romeo and Juliet nonsense. And I’m not going to act like I have to hide this. All right?”

Wyatt nodded. “…all right.”

“Good.” She kissed him thoroughly. “Now pull up your pants and wash up, I think Flynn’s almost finished with dinner.”

“…if I say ‘yes, dear’ you’re gonna slap me aren’t you.”

“Possibly.”

 

* * *

 

Flynn kind of didn’t want to go to bed that night.

Lucy was already asleep, worn out, but he was feeling restless, and honestly, he was starting to dread nighttime. Not because he hated sleeping with Wyatt in the bed, but because he was liking it a little too much.

A few times Lucy had stayed up late, or gotten up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and he’d woken up to find Wyatt in his arms, warm and curled up against Flynn like he belonged there. Wyatt tended to spoon Lucy, Flynn noticed, while Lucy preferred to plop herself onto Flynn’s chest like a contented cat. But when it came to Wyatt migrating towards Flynn… Wyatt would curl into Flynn’s side, tucking his face into Flynn’s neck, breathing him in, trusting that Flynn would put his arms around him.

Wyatt wanted to be held.

It cracked at Flynn’s heart. Especially because when he woke up and Wyatt was in his arms it felt _right_. Like this was how it should be, and he’d just forgotten.

But it was a dangerous, dangerous game that he was playing with that. Wyatt didn’t want this Flynn. He didn’t want _him_. He wanted the other Flynn. And Flynn himself wasn’t even sure what he wanted. He knew what his body wanted, sure. Sometimes it took everything in him not to roll on top of Wyatt and fuck him awake. But what his heart wanted? That he couldn’t even begin to fathom. What if this was a false sense of intimacy, created by sharing a bed? What if it all then blew up in their faces when he realized this wasn’t really what he wanted?

It was a mess.

Hence, avoiding bedtime.

He heard laughter in the main room and followed it.

“Awww, c’mon man,” Dave was protesting. “You know all of my embarrassing stories but I don’t know yours!”

“I know some,” Rufus said gleefully. “Remember the time we first flew in the Lifeboat and you almost threw up?”

“Hey!”

“I’ve always been fine in the Lifeboat,” Dave noted.

“You’re a freak of nature, Bam Bam, we’ve established this.”

Flynn entered to find Rufus, Wyatt, and Dave all sprawled out in the living room-slash-hangout area, laughing over a couple of beers and a pile of Chocodiles. Dave cheerfully waved as they saw Flynn, and Rufus saluted him with his beer.

Wyatt quickly looked away.

That was the other thing—Wyatt pretty much didn’t even speak to Flynn, if he could help it. Did a number on a guy’s sense of self-worth.

“I’m about ready to turn in,” Dave admitted, yawning.

Rufus looked from Flynn to Wyatt and then back again. “Yeah, Jiya’s going to start worrying if I’m not there for her nightly massage soon.”

“…you give your girlfriend a nightly massage.”

“Don’t you?”

“Oh my God, stop being so disgustingly perfect.”

Dave clapped Flynn on the shoulder as he headed to bed. Rufus nodded at him in what Flynn thought was an encouraging way, but he couldn’t be sure.

Wyatt looked like he’d just been told he was facing a firing squad in five minutes.

Flynn sat down on the couch and grabbed one of the unopened beers. “You three getting along okay? Everything patched up?”

“What?” Wyatt blinked in surprise. Flynn could almost hear the guy’s brain rebooting. “Um, yeah. Yeah, we’ve been having these, um, guy nights, y’know. I put a timer on myself? I got the idea from…” He blushed. “Anyway, I can’t talk about myself for an hour or whatever, I can only listen. It’s super hard—but it helps.”

“That’s… really good.” Flynn felt oddly proud.

“Yeah.” Wyatt idly took another sip of beer. “Thought you’d be in bed.”

“Too restless.”

Wyatt nodded.

“Why, do you need some time to yourself?”

“No, no, I wasn’t—you can stay.” Wyatt set the bottle down. “I just—wanted to be sure. I thought we might’ve been too loud and woke you up.”

“Mm.”

Silence fell for a while. Then Wyatt said, quietly, like he wasn’t sure if he would ruin everything by saying this, “How’re you doing?”

“…what do you mean?”

Wyatt looked down at his hands. “The, the nightmares, and all.”

Ah. Flynn guessed that in Wyatt’s timeline, Flynn’d had nightmares, too. “What did you know about them?”

Wyatt looked up, startled. “No, I—they might be different, this timeline, I just—I’ve heard you get out of bed, sometimes.”

“Lucy doesn’t.”

“She does. Hear, I mean. She just pretends she doesn’t because she’s not sure how to make it better. In our timeline I was the one who went after you and vice versa.”

That was a hell of a jolt to the system. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt cleared his throat. “You can talk to me about them, if you want. No pressure. Just, if you need someone.”

When Flynn had first met Wyatt, the guy had asked for things with this air of… arrogance, of possession, like he was asking only as a formality but really expected to get whatever he was asking for regardless. But now, Wyatt asked softly, hesitantly, like he thought that even with that simple question he’d be intruding unforgivably into Flynn’s space.

“I mean,” Wyatt added, “usually it’s this one mission. I had to leave my whole unit behind. Bam Bam was off somewhere else, he wasn’t on it… I had the intel, so I was the one they covered so I could get back and I, uh, I lost all of them. Had a good friend bleed out under me, y’know.”

Flynn had a few missions of his own like that. All of war was shit, the kind of nightmare that people had grown so used to hearing about that mentioning just how shit it was sounded preachy. But through it all, there were always one or two missions that stood out, that sank into your bones and didn’t let go until it felt like it was throttling your soul.

Half of the time it was that. Half of the time it was Iris and Lorena. A few times it was Lucy—bleeding out under him, or burned in the D.C. explosion if he’d actually done it. Once he’d dreamed that David Rittenhouse had actually managed to drag her off.

He’d thrown up after that one. Wouldn’t leave her side all the next day.

“So, you know, if you ever want to.” Wyatt shrugged.

Flynn glanced at him. “Why’d you get into the army?”

Wyatt seemed surprised at the question. “Felt like the best option. I’d run away from my dad’s a year back and was hiding out at Jess’s when I could and camping out in my car when I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to pay for college or even what I’d do there, or if I was even smart enough to get in, so I enrolled. It had… structure, y’know, all the things I hadn’t had growing up. It paid. It was honorable, or at least that’s what everyone kept telling me. What about you?”

“My dad had just died,” Flynn admitted. “And I wanted to feel like I could actually do something different, something powerful.” He wasn’t even sure why he was admitting all of this, except that somehow he felt like out of all the people in this damn bunker, Wyatt was the one who’d understand. “I couldn’t ever stop him from being… the way he was to us. I couldn’t protect my mother. I was only fifteen, I had to lie about my age and when my mom found out she had quite a few things to say about that. But I felt like I had to do something. I’d spent too much time not doing anything. I wanted to… to help people, to protect them, the way I’d failed to do with her.”

“You were a kid.”

“So were you.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and the softness in Wyatt’s eyes hit Flynn all over again. _Oh_ , he thought. _Oh, that’s right, he loves me._

Even if Wyatt was still hesitant about saying it.

“Here’s to shit dads then, huh?” Wyatt said.

“Here’s to not repeating their mistakes and making whole new ones instead.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Yeah, fair enough.”

Flynn swung his legs up onto the couch to get more comfortable. And if that meant his feet tangled with Wyatt’s… what of it?

 

* * *

 

Wyatt wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, or how it had even started.

But now, a couple of times a week, he and Flynn were playing therapy with each other late at night.

It was so similar to their old times, back in his timeline, only Flynn had been doing all the heavy lifting then, reaching out to Wyatt and basically being his damn psychologist. Now, Wyatt hoped, it was a little more even.

Sometimes they didn’t talk about anything much. They’d swap random stories, keep it light. Another time they’d ended up talking about Lucy, and their relationship with her, and, well, sex with her.

That actually hadn’t been as uncomfortable as Wyatt had expected it to be.

“So, wait, you don’t like handcuffs?” Flynn asked. “But you like…”

“Reminds me of way too many hazing rituals,” Wyatt explained. “And just, the army in general. So she pins me down.”

“I think you’re missing out.”

“Says the guy who was actually arrested.”

“We use leather cuffs, they have this fur on the inside, nice and comfy.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Mmm, whatever you say.”

“Tell me, how long did it take you to be able to call her a slut?”

“…touché.”

Wyatt had wanted to crawl over to him and kiss him so badly he’d burned with it. It had felt like he was going to burst out of his own skin. But while Flynn was a bit touchy in the sense that they’d share the couch, legs on top of each other, he never went further than that. If anything, he seemed to be overly careful in how he touched Wyatt.

They talked about their parents, their wars, their former wives.

And then Flynn asked him about, well, them.

“So I was the only guy you’ve ever been with?”

Wyatt choked on his water. He tried to watch how much he drank. He didn’t want to be the guy that Jess had talked about, the drunk who knew no other way to handle his PTSD. “Wow, that’s a detour.”

Flynn just raised an eyebrow at him.

Wyatt sighed. “Yes, you’re the only guy I’ve ever been with. I had… y’know, a few kind of crushes, I guess, before but I never—you were the only one who really pushed. In the army it wasn’t safe, and I didn’t want to look at it, and then there was Jess, and I like women, and so it was just easier not to look at it. But you… you made me look at it. And you made me feel safe while you did it.

“And you never made me be—I could be as out as I wanted to be. You didn’t mind if I was only physically affectionate when it was just us two and Lucy. You didn’t make me choose a label. You were…” Wyatt could feel his throat closing up and he looked away, trying to focus on his breathing. “You were really great about it, that’s all,” he mumbled.

“Why do you say ‘you’?” Flynn asked.

Wyatt looked up. “What?”

“You always say ‘you’.”

“Because it is you.”

“I think we’ve established that it wasn’t me. That was another person on another timeline.”

“Force of habit, I guess.”

Flynn nodded.

Wyatt got up. “I’ll… I’ll see you later, then.”

He spent the next however long in the bathroom, gripping the sink, trying to remember how to breathe.

When he came out, Flynn was in bed with Lucy, apparently asleep. Wyatt almost didn’t want to join them—he almost went into the empty room that used to be his and Dave’s until Dave officially moved into Amy’s room—but he knew Lucy would hate it if she woke up without him.

He climbed carefully into bed, sliding in on Lucy’s other side, making sure he didn’t touch Flynn at all.

He pretended he didn’t hear Lucy and Flynn get up in the morning, pretended to keep sleeping, but when they were finally gone and he opened his eyes, there was still a cup of coffee on the bedside table. Two sugars, bit of cream, splash of hazelnut.

 

* * *

 

Flynn woke up in a cold sweat, his heart leaping into his throat. Fuck, fuck, fuck—

It’d been the first mission where he’d really lost someone, all the way back in the Croatian War, back when he hadn’t known what the fuck he was doing, and he was standing in the rubble and looking down and their faces had changed and it hadn’t been his comrades it’d been his wife, his daughter, his friends, Rufus, Jiya, all of them, and he’d screamed and no sound had come out and he’d been trying to find Lucy’s body, she was the one missing, he had to, Lucy—

He sat up, struggling to keep his breathing under control.

The dream had ended when he’d realized that Lucy was there the whole time. She’d been with Wyatt, one of the two bodies so destroyed, their faces were gone.

Flynn got up and stumbled out into the main room.

He rarely threw up, but he still felt sick, sweaty, feverish. He sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes, the light flicked on so that the world was no longer full of hungry shadows. Or at least there were fewer of them.

 _Sranje_ , where the hell had all the air in the room gone? He felt like a fish on land, gasping, helpless, pathetic. Lucy, she was safe, she was asleep in bed with Wyatt, they were both safe, it was all fine, so why couldn’t he get some fucking air?

“Garcia, Garcia, hey.”

Oddly enough, he recognized the smell of the person before their voice. Wyatt pulled him in, stood between Flynn’s legs and wrapped his arms around him, his hand cradling the back of Flynn’s head as Flynn tilted his face into Wyatt’s chest, breathing him in. Wyatt smelled like fresh laundry, like warm bread, and Flynn found himself clinging to him before he knew that was even what he wanted.

“I got you,” Wyatt murmured. “Breathe with me, okay? Just do what I do.”

Flynn focused in, breathing in and out with Wyatt, listening to Wyatt’s heartbeat under his ear, the warmth of Wyatt’s hands on him.

At last it no longer felt like he was drowning. Wyatt pulled away, crouching down and resting their foreheads together. “You wanna talk about it?”

Flynn shook his head.

“Mmkay.” Wyatt ran a hand through Flynn’s hair and then stood up, going over to the fridge and getting a glass of water. He passed it over. “Drink that.”

“I’m not a child.”

“No, you’re a dehydrated asshole.”

Flynn flipped him off but drank it anyway. When he’d finished, Wyatt took the cup and put it in the sink. “You want some melatonin?”

“What?”

“Chemical that your brain releases to help you fall asleep. You can get ‘em as tablets. Sometimes you’d want one to help you get back to sleep.”

“I’m… okay, thanks.”

He watched as Wyatt washed the cup, dried it, and put it away, movements smooth and practiced like he’d done this a million times before. He stood as Wyatt turned, which apparently startled Wyatt enough that he jumped a little.

It was such a role reversal, Flynn wasn’t sure what to do with it. This whole time he’d had the impression that he was the one who’d taken care of Wyatt in their timeline. Now he was seeing another side, and it felt a little like his heart had been turned upside down.

That was fucking terrifying, frankly. Was he attracted to Wyatt? Yes, okay, fine, he was. Could he be friends with Wyatt? Possibly. He'd hoped so, at least, he felt it was only helpful to Lucy if her two husbands got along. But this... this was the beginning, or maybe even the middle, of something else. Something he wasn't sure he could look at.

“Why are you doing this?” The words came out more confrontational than he'd planned.

“Because it’s the decent thing to do, man,” Wyatt replied. “I spent enough time thinking about myself, okay, I’m just trying to be there, give back.”

“That’s not all of it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Wyatt didn’t even sound confrontational. He just sounded exhausted and sad. “I do it because I’m in love with you. I love you. And because—because the last time, you were the patient one. You put up with all of my bullshit and all of my issues, and now it’s my turn. And I don’t resent that or regret it, not for a second, because—because you mean so much to me. So much.”

Flynn realized that they were standing incredibly close, Wyatt’s trembling mouth and aching eyes only a few inches from him. Wyatt must have realized it too, because he stepped back, his gaze falling away.

“In the other timeline—you always liked a minute or two alone, after you had, uh, one of these episodes, y’know, so I’ll—just come back to bed soon, you need your sleep.”

Flynn didn’t reach for him as he left. He wasn’t sure if he was angry at himself or not for that.

It took him another minute to realize… for the first time, Wyatt hadn’t hesitated or stumbled when he’d said that he loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Flynn and Wyatt having late night chats and Wyatt helping Flynn through a PTSD episode were both inspired by fics written by extasiswings. In fact her fantastic fics inspired a great deal of my characterization of Wyatt, because she's just that talented.


	13. Chapter 13

It was bound to happen eventually.

But that didn’t stop Flynn from not at all thinking that he should maybe knock before entering the bedroom.

Which meant he couldn’t stop himself from seeing what was happening on the bed.

Lucy was riding Wyatt, her hips rolling in slow, deep movements as she took him inside of her again and again. Wyatt wasn’t tied down in any way, but his hands were gripping the bedsheets until his knuckles were white, a position that Flynn knew well—because Lucy made him do that too.

_No touching until I say so._

They were backwards on the bed, Wyatt’s feet braced against the metal headboard. It meant that Lucy was facing the door, facing him, everything on glorious, heart-stopping display as she moved. Her hair was only half undone and she still had her makeup on from their mission, her lips stained bright red, her skin smooth and pale—

And she looked up.

Flynn’s brain, which had come to a screeching halt, started up again screaming _abort abort abort_ but then Lucy’s mouth fell open on a gasp and she locked her eyes onto him, starting to move faster, harder.

Oh. Oh _fuck_ him, she _liked_ it.

Lucy kept her dark gaze on him as she rode Wyatt, her chest heaving, her movements losing their steady rhythm. She was close, he could tell by the way her hips were stuttering, and then she planted her hand on Wyatt’s chest and slid it up and…

Gripped Wyatt’s throat.

Flynn was already painfully, embarrassingly hard in his pants but Jesus Christ that was a kink he hadn’t even known he had, watching as Wyatt went completely pliant and moaned, watching as Lucy’s hand flexed, cutting off his air for just a moment, watching as Wyatt’s hips jerked in helpless arousal in response. Fuck, fuck, fuck the guy was responding to it like this was what he’d been put on this earth for and Lucy was still staring Flynn right in the eyes as she took her pleasure, fucking Wyatt and watching Flynn watch them and he had really never thought of himself as a voyeur but part of him wanted it to never stop.

Lucy came with a shudder, a little cry escaping her, and then she was speeding up, trying to pull Wyatt over as well, her hand rhythmically squeezing and relaxing around his throat. She pushed Wyatt’s head back until it tipped over the end of the bed and he looked, upside down, saw Flynn—

Wyatt’s eyes went wide and he came with a strangled noise, his entire body jerking.

Flynn backed out of there so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.

 

* * *

 

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck him, fuck him up the ass with a cactus, oh fuck.

Wyatt just wanted the world to swallow him whole, if the world would be so kind, thanks.

He hadn’t—he hadn’t even known Flynn was there, he definitely hadn’t meant to see Flynn gazing at him like—like that, and then orgasm from it, but Flynn had been staring at him like he’d wanted to eat Wyatt alive and what the hell was he supposed to do with that!?

Lucy didn’t seem at all concerned, but Wyatt wasn’t going to be the one who made an awkward conversation even more awkward. “I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight.”

Lucy, who was cleaning herself up, glared at him. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Pretty sure Flynn doesn’t want a visual reminder that his wife is fucking another man.”

“I’ve made my position on this clear. Garcia knows that. I love both of you, this was going to happen sometime.”

“Yeah but… look it’s already bad enough that he knows I’m in love with him, I’ll just… I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I’ll—I’ll see what Dave says. His room’s practically empty anyway, since he’s with Amy all the time.”

Lucy sighed, her eyes getting sad. “Wyatt…”

“No, no, really, it’s fine. You two should talk about that, and I’ll just stay out of the way.”

He kissed her on the cheek and hurried out of the room to shower.

 

* * *

 

Flynn hid until he could think of enough dead kittens that his stupid erection went down, then waited another ten minutes just to be safe, and then returned to the room.

Wyatt wasn’t there, but Lucy was waiting for him.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

“About as much as you enjoyed watching,” Lucy purred.

Flynn reconsidered being alone in this room with a purring on the prowl Lucy Preston. “Ah…”

Lucy stood up, still on the bed, and walked over to him. Like this, she was actually—for once—the taller one. She placed one hand on his chest, the other draped over his shoulder. “You know how I enjoy… showing off for you.”

Flynn had several lap dances and other one woman shows to prove this. “Yes…”

“Well, let’s just say that in my timeline, I didn’t always show off alone.”

“Lucy—”

Her hand was sliding down, down, into very dangerous territory. “You liked choking him like that, you know. You were usually the one doing it.”

…oh holy fuck.

“Is that so.”

Lucy nodded, her hand getting underneath his pants. Goddammit, there went all his hard—no pun intended—work thinking about dead kittens. “You want him, Garcia.”

“I—”

She kissed him softly on the jaw. “Sex isn’t love, you know, but a girl gets real tired of her two men doing the crab walk every morning while refusing to make eye contact.”

“Lucy.”

“Garcia.”

They stared each other down as Lucy gave his cock a squeeze. “You want him. He very much wants you.”

“…when you two… you seemed to be… the way you are with me. Or the way you were. I wondered if that was still the same.”

“If by that you mean, do I give the orders in my timeline?” Lucy leaned in, her lips brushing his as she tilted her head. “Yes, I do. So how about I order you to go take what you want. What he very much wants to give you.”

There were so very, very many ways this could go wrong. He wasn’t in love with Wyatt, and Wyatt was in love with him. But—but Lucy had a point. A good one. He was so desperate to sink his teeth, his hands, his everything into Wyatt that it felt like he ached with it.

And the way Wyatt had looked all spread out… Lucy’s hand on his throat…

His thoughts must have shown on his face because Lucy kissed him, on the lips this time, with a pleased little purr. “Good boy. Go get him.”

Flynn swallowed, his throat clicking. “Where is he?”

“In the shower. I’m sure he’ll need help scrubbing his back.” She winked at him.

Well, if he was going to Hell already… Flynn supposed he could just put it on his tab.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt let the warm spray wash over him.

Fuck. Fuck, Jesus Christ, how the hell was he supposed to fix this?

There was really no coming back from ‘hey I saw you watching me have sex and it made me orgasm.’ Flynn might have been doing an admirable job of pretending he’d forgotten that Wyatt was in love with him, but this kind of shot that all to hell.

Should he just apologize? He didn’t want Flynn to be uncomfortable. And he really didn’t want Lucy to have to go back to swapping beds back and forth.

The bathroom door opened.

“Occupied,” Wyatt called. Probably Rufus or someone coming in to take a quick piss.

But the door closed and then he heard the last person he expected say, “I’m aware.”

Wyatt turned around so fast he almost slipped on the wet tile.

Flynn was standing there, dark gaze meeting Wyatt’s eyes. He couldn’t tell what Flynn’s expression meant. It was tight, his jaw slightly clenched, which meant he was struggling to hold himself under control, trying to hide whatever his instinctive expression was.

“Hey.” Shit, his voice sounded strangled and cracking even to his own ears. “Uh, look, about—about that, I’m—shit I’m really sorry, I didn’t—”

“You think I didn’t like it?” Flynn asked.

“Uh…” every single train of thought rushing through Wyatt’s head came to a screeching halt.

And then Flynn stripped off his sh— _holy shit he was stripping off his shirt_ what the fuck—

Flynn walked up to him, and Wyatt struggled valiantly to keep looking just into Flynn’s eyes. He grabbed Wyatt’s wrist, bringing Wyatt’s hand forward and guiding it to oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck slide it under Flynn’s pants—

“Does that feel like I didn’t like it?” Flynn asked.

Wyatt felt like he couldn’t breathe, heat rushing through him as he palmed Flynn’s cock, feeling it swell and harden under his touch.

Part of him wanted to run away, run far, far away. Flynn wanted to fuck him, and Wyatt wanted that so badly he was ready to get on his goddamn knees and beg for it, but he didn’t just want Flynn’s body he wanted all of him, he was in love with the guy, and Flynn didn’t return those feelings. Crossing this line with him, adding in the sex, it was only going to make everything hurt more in the end.

But then, Wyatt would always be the first to admit he was a masochist.

“Fuck me,” he blurted out, knowing how desperate he sounded, and almost before he’d finished saying it Flynn was kissing him.

Wyatt’s knees nearly buckled in sheer relief. He kissed the same, _Flynn kissed the same_ , the way he remembered, and Wyatt almost burst into tears over it. He clawed at him, trying to draw him closer, kissing back hungrily and without shame as Flynn stripped off his pants and then shoved Wyatt further back into the shower, his hands roaming over Wyatt’s body, fingertips skimming along, learning the shape of him.

“Please,” Wyatt whispered, the words bitten into Flynn’s lips. “I want—I need you to fuck me, Garcia—”

Flynn’s arm wrapped around Wyatt’s waist and he yanked Wyatt against him, his other hand coming up to wrap around Wyatt’s throat, the way he must’ve seen Lucy doing in the bedroom. He squeezed ever so slightly, and Wyatt swore he saw stars.

“Pretty,” Flynn murmured, his thumb swiping back and forth along Wyatt’s pulse. His gaze trailed slowly down and then back up Wyatt’s body, and Wyatt felt himself flushing, hot with anticipation and want. That old feeling of being claimed, being owned, came rushing back and it was like he was a puzzle piece finding out where and how he fit again, like a part of the universe was righted.

It looked like that natural dominance Flynn had with him was already coming out, but Wyatt was greedy. He wanted more of it. He wanted Flynn to put him in his goddamn place and leave him a wreck. He wanted to have a hard time walking tomorrow.

Flynn looked him over a little more, then released his hold on Wyatt’s throat. “Turn around.”

But Wyatt was pretty damn sure that no matter what the timeline was, the guaranteed way to get Flynn into the mood he wanted him wasn’t to straight up obey.

So instead he pressed against him and said, “Make me.”

 

* * *

 

Flynn growled a little. Make him? _Make_ him?

That little shit…

He dropped his hands to Wyatt’s hips and spun him around, pressing him against the tiled wall and putting all of his weight down, pinning him. Wyatt whined desperately and pushed back, shoving almost, not like he wanted to get away but like he was challenging Flynn. “That the best you can do?”

Flynn bit down on the back of Wyatt’s neck where it met his shoulder, growling instinctively. He knew Wyatt wanted this, he’d literally begged Flynn for this, so why did he have to be such a brat about it—

And then Wyatt went pliant, shivering.

Oh. _Oh._

“…you like that,” Flynn noted. He kept Wyatt pinned to the wall and skimmed his hand down Wyatt’s side. “You like… when I get a little dominant, don’t you?”

Wyatt pushed back, so Flynn put all of his weight on him, prompting Wyatt to moan. It gave Flynn a massive rush that he wasn’t expecting. This guy had been a pain in Flynn’s ass from the moment he’d stepped out of the Lifeboat, and now he was basically taunting Flynn into making him submit, and it was—it was intoxicating.

“You gonna answer me sometime today?” Flynn asked.

Wyatt pushed back into him, his head falling onto Flynn’s shoulder, exposing his throat to Flynn’s mouth. “Yeah.”

“Is this how we did it? In your timeline?”

Wyatt swallowed, and Flynn could feel it against his lips. “Yes. You—you and Lucy, you were in charge, and—fuck—you’d order me and punish me when I disobeyed.”

“And you trusted us?”

“Completely.”

Flynn felt like he was drunk, or lightheaded, suddenly and one hundred percent wanting to do that with Wyatt, to make this insanely frustrating man do what he said, trust him like that, be putty in Flynn’s hands. It wasn’t at all like with Lucy, Lucy who he would obey and follow to the ends of the earth. He couldn’t control Lucy if he’d tried and he certainly had no intention of trying but Wyatt… oh, God, he wanted to make Wyatt beg for him.

Suddenly he felt Wyatt jam an elbow into his side, flipping around so that they were facing again, a determined gleam in Wyatt’s eye. “But you’re not him, right? That’s what you said. So if you’re not my Flynn…” He shrugged. “Looks like you gotta prove to me I can let you be in charge. Prove you can take care of me like that.”

Oh, was that how it was going to be?

Flynn let a feral grin slide over his face, the one he usually only showed to Rittenhouse goons he was about to start interrogating. Challenge accepted.

Flynn shoved him back into the wall again, this time chest to chest, getting one hand in Wyatt’s hair and yanking his head back while his leg worked between, spreading Wyatt’s legs. He licked a long stripe up Wyatt’s neck. “So you want me to fuck you good and proper, hmm?” He tugged on Wyatt’s hair, not bothering to be all that gentle, his knee pressing up so that Wyatt’s hips stuttered instinctively, seeking friction. “How about you get your knees for me, use that pretty mouth to get me nice and hard, and if you’re very good about it…” He thrust up and Wyatt moaned helplessly. “…I’ll fuck you.”

“Yes,” Wyatt choked out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm, little more detail than that, Wyatt.” Flynn sucked at his neck.

“I—p-please, can I do that, can I suck your cock?”

“Why?”

“Because—‘cause I want you to fuck me.”

Flynn growled, hot, dirty pleasure running through him. He’d been the more dominant partner at times, off and on, but generally he was submissive. Lucy was in charge, and Lorena had been in charge before that. He liked doing what he was told, he liked pleasing the person he loved.

But Wyatt had a stubbornness to him, a way of pushing his goddamn buttons, that made something, some previously unknown animal, come out in Flynn and make him want to order, to control, to put him in his place.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Good,” Flynn told him. He stepped back but kept a hold of Wyatt’s hair, using it to guide Wyatt down onto his knees. The sight of Wyatt like that, water getting into his eyes, his lips slick and parted, his cheeks flushed, staring up at Flynn… god fucking damn.

Wyatt seemed to be waiting for the go ahead, so Flynn wrapped his free hand around his cock, guiding it towards Wyatt’s mouth. “Go on.”

Wyatt gave him a look from under his lashes that could only be described as determined, and then he wrapped his lips around the head and went to fucking town.

Flynn swore violently, tugging at Wyatt’s hair without thought, and Wyatt whimpered in response. So, hair pulling, Wyatt liked that same as Lucy. Jesus Christ though—he knew that Wyatt hadn’t been with any other men besides Flynn, but he hadn’t thought far enough to realize that meant that Wyatt’s blowjob skills weren’t just general ‘what makes all men feel good’ skills. They were ‘what specifically makes Flynn feel good’ skills.

He had to use his other hand to brace himself against the wall, his breath punched in and out of him. Wyatt clearly had something to prove and was taking Flynn down as far as he could go, his tongue working underneath the foreskin, gliding along the slit, and hot damn Flynn was almost regretting saying he’d fuck him because he wanted to see this through until the end.

Next time, he thought. Definitely next time.

He pulled away, ignoring the pressure building up in the base of his spine and Wyatt’s disappointed face. “Good boy,” he murmured without thinking about it.

Wyatt shivered in response. Mmm, a praise kink, huh? Lucy’s little habit of being called a slut was one that Flynn had really struggled to get behind, but he had no problem praising. If Wyatt wanted to be called a good boy, then Flynn was happy to oblige.

“Stand up,” he ordered, and Wyatt scrambled to his feet, stumbling a little as he hurried to obey. Flynn caught Wyatt’s face in his hands and kissed him, tasting himself in Wyatt’s mouth. Wyatt was so goddamn eager, pressing every inch of himself against Flynn, fighting Flynn in the kiss, in the embrace, until Flynn wrestled him into submission and Wyatt went pliant.

“Are you going to keep being good for me?” Flynn asked, reaching around and letting his finger catch along Wyatt’s entrance, circling, teasing. It had been forever since he’d been with a guy but he sure knew what he liked for his body, and that seemed to be working fine for Wyatt.

“Yes.”

“Can I get a ‘yes, sir’?”

Wyatt made an absolutely desperate noise and shuddered violently. Flynn grinned at him. “What, did the other me never do that?”

“Fuck,” Wyatt croaked. “No.”

“But you liked that.”

“Yes.” Wyatt was practically vibrating.

“Mmm, yes what?”

Wyatt swallowed visibly. “Yes, sir,” he choked out.

“Turn around.”

Wyatt did so at once, and Flynn grabbed the pink bottle of lube Jiya and Rufus used that they all pretended not to know about.

He’d pay Rufus back for it later or something.

“So what did we do, huh?” he asked, slicking up his fingers and starting to work Wyatt open.

Wyatt’s breath hitched as Flynn slid the first finger in, just the tip at first, then slowly deepening until he was in up to the knuckle. “Y-you’d order me around, you and Lucy. Make me hold back and not come until you said I could, fuck me for—oh God, got up to the point where you could fuck me for an hour and make me wait…”

Flynn added a second finger. “And you’d wait?”

“’Til you said.”

“And if you didn’t wait?” He curled his fingers, searching…

Wyatt cried out, scrambling for purchase against the wall. Jackpot. “Flynn, Flynn please—”

“Answer the question.”

“If I—if I was—you’d punish me.”

Ohhhh God, that was hot. Flynn had to pause for a second and catch his breath. “How?”

“Delaying me again, um, oh God oh fuck, spanking, having to—to blow you or eat Lucy out, forcing me to orgasm—”

Flynn’s sexual bucket list had just gotten a lot longer. “And you like it when I do this…”

He took his free hand and wrapped it around Wyatt’s throat from behind. Wyatt went completely pliant against him. Flynn grinned, hardly recognizing the feel of it stretching his mouth, feeling feral. “Lucy said I would do this to you.”

Wyatt swallowed. “Yes,” he whispered.

Flynn pulled his fingers out and got himself good and slick, then lined himself up. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot of things to do, don’t we?” He leaned in, kissing just below Wyatt’s ear. “But we’ll start with this.”

He slid inside and Wyatt sobbed in relief. Flynn didn’t squeeze his throat, he wasn’t confident enough to do that while he was fucking him, but he kept his hand there and that sure seemed to help. Wyatt thrust back into him, using the wall as leverage, until Flynn had to grab Wyatt’s hips with both his hands and fuck into him hard and fast.

Wyatt was shaking against him, practically writhing, and then Flynn found the perfect angle and Wyatt gave an honest-to-God scream and that was about the time Flynn lost his goddamn mind.

“Going to—have to pin you down, fuck you ‘til you cry,” Flynn growled, and Wyatt was clawing at the tiles and chanting _yes, yes, yes_ in a broken voice and he didn’t even really know what he was saying anymore, this need to just _dominate_ coming out in him like never before, roaring at him to mark, to possess, to claim, and Wyatt was embracing it, asking for it, taking everything Flynn was saying and doing and responding with _please_ and _yes_.

Flynn could feel it building in him, his balls tightening, everything in him doused in fire. He reached around, wrapping his hand around Wyatt, stroking, and was surprised when Wyatt didn’t come. The guy was clearly desperate, why…?

Oh. _Oh_.

Wyatt needed permission.

Flynn bit Wyatt’s ear, tugging on the lobe. “Come for me, Wyatt, show me how much you fucking like it.”

Wyatt sobbed out Flynn’s name and came like a shot.

That was just about all that Flynn needed. He shoved himself inside, holding onto Wyatt so tightly he feared he’d bruised him, jerking helplessly as he came.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

One, they were definitely doing that again. Two, that was a fucking trip. Three…

Where the fuck had that whole dominant shit even _come_ from?

 

* * *

 

Lucy was idly reading in bed when Wyatt stumbled in and promptly collapsed next to her on the mattress.

“Somebody looks well fucked.”

“Nnngh,” Wyatt replied.

Lucy pet his hair. “You’re welcome.”

“Pretty sure if I could get pregnant, I would have,” Wyatt croaked.

“Good thing for all of us you can’t, you on pregnancy hormones would be terrifying.”

“Gotta maintain my figure, y’know.”

Lucy laughed softly, then kept petting his hair in silence for a while.

At last she admitted, “I’m glad. Watching you two dance around each other was… I think you’ll both be much happier now.”

There was no reply.

“…Wyatt?” She shook him a little. “Wyatt?”

He’d passed out.

Lucy sighed and went back to her book.

Hopefully now that sex was taken care of, the rest would soon follow.


	14. Chapter 14

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…

What. What the fuck had been that.

Flynn paced up and down the bathroom, filled with restless energy. He’d just—okay, okay, so Wyatt had definitely liked it, or he’d seemed to, but—for fuck’s sake they hadn’t even used a safeword and he’d said some pretty damning things towards the end there, things he hadn’t ever thought he’d say or even want to say. What if he’d crossed some kind of line and hadn’t realized it? What if he’d gotten too rough? What if—

He’d been in control before, sure. He was six foot four, sometimes his partners liked to be held down by him a little or something, made sense. There were a few times Lucy had asked him to tie her up and tease her, but even then there’d been this underlying current of her being in charge, of him doing it only because she asked. He did it to please her.

He’d never been anything like that. He’d felt… greedy in a whole new way, he’d wanted to hear Wyatt give in, hear him beg, he wanted to—

Could he really handle that? Being so—so dominant? What if he did it wrong? What if he—oh God—hurt Wyatt? What if—

His thoughts were swirling like a goddamn tornado, to the point where he didn’t even hear the bathroom door open.

“Garcia?”

He stumbled to a stop in his pacing. “Lucy.”

She was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of what he was pretty damn sure were Wyatt’s boxers, her hair rumpled. “I wondered where you’d gotten to.”

He opened his arms automatically, letting her step into them so she could press her palms to his chest, her ear at his heartbeat. “Everything all right.”

“Mmm, yeah, just feeling a little cold on one side. Wyatt’s passed out but good, you did a number on him.”

Flynn stiffened. He tried to hide it, tried to pull away, but Lucy’s hands clenched in his shirt. “Garcia…”

“What?”

“What’s wrong.”

Flynn swallowed, looking down at her. “I was—Jesus Christ Lucy, it was like I was another person.”

She laughed lightly. “Wyatt’s been pushing your buttons for a few months now, I’m not surprised you got a little more dominant than usual with him.”

“…than usual?”

“Flynn. It’s okay.” She reached up and cupped his face. “It’s all right if you want to be in control with him.”

“I didn’t even recognize myself. We didn’t talk about it beforehand, we didn’t establish ground rules—fuck, Lucy, how do I know I was—”

“Wyatt can and will kick the ass of anyone who tries to do something he doesn’t want,” Lucy promised. She sighed, stepping back and leaning against the sink. “Look, you weren’t there for this, but he was reluctant to admit all the things he wanted at first. Even things he did like, he would pretend that he didn’t, because he was ashamed of it. He insisted he wasn’t as submissive as he likes to be. He’d challenge us at every turn, to get us to prove that we wouldn’t back down and that we’d follow through on the things we promised. If you’d done something he didn’t want, you would’ve gotten a jab to the kidneys.”

“I’ve never been like that before,” Flynn admitted. “With—I mean, I told you about—how Lorena and I were.”

Lucy nodded. “Flynn, we’re all individuals. We’re different with different people. I don’t know why I want to be in control with you and with men but I like being submissive with women. It’s just how it is. Not everyone’s strictly one or the other. We all have our own dynamics. So Wyatt brought out something new in you. We brought out a lot of new things in him. I didn’t know it was possible to love two people and be with both of them, and yet here I am.”

She reached out, taking his hand and squeezing gently. “And if you’re still nervous about it, I can be there. We had a lot of fun, the three of us. I can be there and be in control for a while as you get more confident.”

The band of iron in his chest loosened a little. “That would… help.”

“And you can be dominant and be gentle,” Lucy reminded him with a wink. “But I promise you, whatever you did, Wyatt liked it.”

She tugged on his hand. “Now come to bed.”

Wyatt was, in fact, passed out in the bed. Lucy hopped right into the middle, but Flynn was slower to follow. He laid down, letting Lucy stretch out along his side… but he had to be sure.

He reached out, his fingers trailing along Wyatt’s back up to his shoulder, turning his hand and trailing his knuckles along Wyatt’s cheek. Wyatt turned into the touch, still asleep. He didn’t seem hurt, or upset, just dreaming.

Flynn wanted to grab Wyatt’s hand, but he didn’t think that would go over well. He pulled back, letting his arm drop over Lucy instead.

Lucy sighed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“What?”

“If you can’t see it, I’m not going to explain it to you.”

“Lucy. Lucy, darling…”

“Goodnight, Garcia, I love you, you’re an idiot, go to sleep.”

Flynn rolled his eyes, ducking his face down so that he could smell her hair as he fell asleep.

He very carefully tried not to think about Wyatt, just a few feet away.

 

* * *

 

Denise was unusually early that morning.

Wyatt learned this because Lucy got up to take a shower after Flynn had brought them all coffee, and Wyatt had then gotten up to go to the gym area to work out, but as he’d exited Flynn had grabbed him and spun him around, getting a handful of Wyatt’s ass, and that had led to making out pretty heavily against the wall, which had led to Denise standing there clearing her throat with the most judgmental look of judgment known to man.

Flynn sprang away from Wyatt like he’d been threatened at gunpoint. Actually, Wyatt was pretty sure that Flynn would’ve been less concerned if he’d been at actual gunpoint.

“Denise,” Wyatt said, because he was an idiot who liked to state the obvious.

“Wyatt. Flynn.” Denise looked the two of them up and down. “Good morning.”

She then walked past them.

Wyatt slumped back against the wall. Always fun to have a heart attack first thing in the morning.

Denise didn’t say anything all day, acting perfectly normal, until that night. “Wyatt, if you have a moment?”

Wyatt ran over the day in his head. Had he been selfish? Rude? Not listening? Fuck, what had he done wrong?

Denise led him over to the couch and sat down. “So… you and Flynn. And Lucy as well, I presume.”

Wyatt glanced around. Everyone else had scattered for the night except for Mason who was fiddling with something on the Lifeboat with headphones on.

He looked back at Denise. “Yes.”

“And how is that going?”

“Um…” Wyatt realized, belatedly, that he wasn’t in trouble. Denise was just checking in on him. “We’re sort of… friends with benefits, I guess. They asked me to share the room with them so that Lucy wouldn’t have to keep going back and forth, and then Flynn and I started having sex, so… Lucy and I are good but Flynn and I—it’s just sex, that’s all.”

“Just sex?” Denise frowned. “Aren’t you married to him in your original timeline?”

Wyatt reached up, touching the ring at his chest instinctively. “Yes, that’s—that’s correct.”

Denise sat back a little, a knowing look in her eye. “You know before I met Michelle, I had this girl. Alex. She was great, we had fun, and we started sleeping together. Just friends with benefits, we said. But I… I developed feelings for her. I fell in love. She was funny, smart, gorgeous, we spent a lot of time together—and then she met someone else, another girl, and she told me that we were just friends now, and she started dating her.”

Wyatt felt a lump growing in his throat. Denise leaned in, taking his hand. “I don’t want that for you, Wyatt. Those little arrangements, they never go the way that you want them to or the way that you expect. Just be careful. You’ve been through a lot lately and you’ve been really good with everyone. I’m proud of you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No offense, Denise, because I’m—I’m glad that you care, I really am.” Wyatt squeezed her hand and glanced away, feeling his eyes getting hot. “But there was no way this was gonna go that I didn’t end up screwed.”

Denise sighed, pulling him into a hug. Wyatt held on, squeezing his eyes shut, Flynn’s ring like a deadweight around his neck.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” Denise told him, rubbing his back.

Wyatt nodded. “Just you offering that—it really means a lot.”

“I’m glad.” Denise pulled away. “Now shoo, go do something productive.”

He grinned, even as his chest continued to feel tight. “Yes, captain.”

 

* * *

 

“Yo, Flynn,” Rufus said, right as Flynn was pouring the contents of one hot pan into another hot pan, “Got a minute?”

Flynn finished and set the empty pan down. “You have impeccable timing, Rufus.”

“I knew you wouldn’t drop it.” Rufus grinned, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “So… you and Wyatt, huh?”

“Does everyone in this damn bunker know?” He and Wyatt had started having sex, what, a week ago?

“We’re locked up in a tin can, my man, everybody knows everything. For instance, I know that Dave and—”

“Please refrain from mentioning the sex life between my good friend and the woman I consider a sister.”

“I’m just saying. Also, Wyatt’s loud. You can’t think we didn’t notice.”

“So what’s your point here, Rufus?”

“No point. Just wanted to check in. He’s my buddy, so are you. And you two were kind of, y’know, how would I put it… oh, yes, ready to kill each other at a moment’s notice for about a month.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Hey. I’m serious, Flynn.” Rufus leaned on his elbow. “I want to make sure that you’re okay with this whole thing. Because I know it’s gotta be hard, and… I just want you to be careful.”

“What do you mean?” Flynn added some spices and stirred the pan.

“Look, I know you’d never do anything to intentionally hurt Wyatt, I know you’re not going to try and lead him on, but you know how he feels about you.”

Flynn felt a growl working its way up his throat and he swallowed it down quickly. “I appreciate you looking out for him, but I wouldn’t—I won’t hurt him. Trust me. He’s not the one—the last thing I want is for him to be unhappy, all right? Maybe you don’t believe me because yeah, I wanted to strangle him for the first month or whatever, which was entirely justified. But if I can’t make him happy, then I promise, it’s not from lack of trying on my part, okay?”

It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t the same man that Wyatt had fallen in love with. There was only so much he could do as a pale imitation. A replacement. But if a replacement was all that he could be, if Wyatt just wanted to fuck him and pretend, then that was nobody’s business but theirs and Flynn was fine with it, really, he was.

Rufus stared at him for a long moment. “Okay,” he said at last, the word drawn out. “Well, can’t say that’s how I imagined his conversation going.”

“And how did you imagine it going?”

“I’d ask you to be careful not to break his heart all over again, and you’d say something about how it was just sex, no big deal, and then I’d point out that Wyatt actually made you really happy and maybe you should think about letting that into your life.”

Flynn didn’t dare to even glance at Rufus. He just kept focusing on dinner. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. You three make each other really happy.”

Flynn cleared his throat. “Well, like I said, if Wyatt’s unhappy it’s not my fault.”

“And if you’re unhappy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rufus shrugged. “Oh, nothing.”

“Spit it out.”

“No, just—you don’t seem to be all that happy with the arrangement, seeing as you’re getting plenty of sex and cuddles out of it, unless I’m wrong and you’re violently arguing every night and Wyatt’s just very, very loud about agreeing with you towards the end of said arguments.”

Flynn glared at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Rufus’s face got positively gleeful. “I don’t know whether to walk away and watch you keep setting yourself on fire or if I should try and hand you a bucket of water.”

“Clever, very clever.”

“Flynn. Are you even hearing yourself. You’re in love with the idiot.”

Flynn turned off the heat and set the pan on the back burner. “I’m n—”

“Don’t even try and deny it, you’re a horrible liar when it comes to love.”

Flynn folded his arms, leveling his best, most terrifying glare at Rufus. “Whatever the three of us get up to is nobody’s business but ours, all right? Whatever I may or may not feel about Wyatt, and whatever he may or may not feel about me, isn’t gossip fodder. The fact is he came from a timeline that had a version of me, a version who did right by him and helped him when he was down, and I’m not that person.”

“You could use that logic with Lucy.”

“I did.”

“And yet you got over it pretty quickly, didn’t you?” Rufus’s voice was taking on that clipped tone that it did whenever he was getting serious, going in for the kill with a debate. “How’s Wyatt any different? You threw bullshit at him when he got here, but from where I’m standing he threw the bullshit first and he kept on throwing it. And you don’t know until you ask.”

“I’m not in love with him, Rufus.” He couldn’t be.

“Whatever you say. You know yourself best.” Rufus pushed himself off the counter and walked away. “But hey, when you’re finished paddling in that Egyptian river, let the rest of us know okay?”

Flynn flipped him off, but Rufus was already leaving.

 

* * *

 

Lucy was practically vibrating with excitement that evening. She tried not to let it show too much, resting in bed while Flynn was in the shower and guiding Wyatt to lie with his head in her lap, idly running her fingers through his hair as she read.

“You want something,” Wyatt announced.

“What makes you say that?”

“You might as well be humming the _Jaws_ theme, Lucy.”

“Well… since you asked…” She set her book aside. “You and Flynn are having sex now.”

“…yes.”

“And I realized… we have yet to have sex, the three of us, together.” Lucy let a satisfied grin slide across her face. “And this Flynn has yet to experience many of the wonderful things that we have. Things like… tying you up… or… when I took both of you…”

“Please, for the love of God, do not just introduce the idea of double penetration without warning. I’d like him to not have a heart attack.”

Lucy hummed. God, she did love it when she was stretched like that…

Flynn entered, toweling his hair off from the shower, and stopped dead. “You want something,” he declared.

“See?” Wyatt said, gesturing wildly. “See? _See?_ We know when you’re up to something!”

Lucy crooked her finger at Flynn. He gave her one of his lopsided smiles. “This is the part where I say I shouldn’t bother putting on a shirt,” he said, crawling onto the bed and up towards her.

He kissed her slow and deep, his tongue sliding against hers, and Lucy could already feel that electric hum starting up under her skin, moving down her spine, pooling between her legs. “I was thinking I should show you just how much Wyatt enjoys being told what to do.”

She slid her hand down Wyatt’s chest, working it under his waistband, lightly stroking his cock. Wyatt panted, his eyelids fluttering. “Hmm, sweetheart?” she asked, looking down at him. “You like that idea?”

She squeezed his cock and Wyatt bucked into her touch. “Y-yes ma’am.”

“And you’re going to be good tonight, right?” She glanced up and saw that Flynn was staring at where her hand moved underneath Wyatt’s pajama pants, the outline of his hardening cock and her fingers. His gaze was dark and hungry, his lips slightly parted. Lucy got that old rush between her legs, the one that came when she remembered all over again how she could put these two on their knees for her, in line for her, get them to do whatever she asked with just a gentle touch and a few words.

It was her favorite kind of drug.

Wyatt nodded. He seemed to know as she did just how much was at stake with showing Flynn that Wyatt liked this, that he was more than happy to be ordered and commanded and dirtied up. Lucy knew, after so much time, how it took Wyatt out of his head, how it made him feel cared for and supported and loved, but Flynn had to see that too.

She’d have thought that Flynn would understand seeing as he needed Lucy to take him out of his own head as well from time to time, but apparently his fear of hurting Wyatt overrode that.

Luckily, she was going to show Flynn—and remind Wyatt—just how well they all fit together.

She nodded at Flynn. “Why don’t you get Wyatt good and ready for you? Hmm?”

Flynn’s gaze flicked down to Wyatt, looking like a starving wolf almost, predatory and wanting. Wyatt stared back up at him, eyes wide, biting on his lip to keep himself from begging.

“Go on,” Lucy whispered, encouraged.

Flynn undid the towel around his waist and moved it to the side, then went to get the supplies from the bedside drawer. Lucy gave Wyatt’s cock a final squeeze and then pulled her hand away. “Strip,” she ordered.

Wyatt obeyed at once, eager, as Lucy got her underwear off and spread her legs. “Flynn’s going to get you ready, but don’t think either of you are coming until I do.” She hitched her leg up and slid her hand through Wyatt’s hair, guiding him down, her breath hitching as Wyatt nosed along her thigh, his lips brushing against the skin. “You know how I like it,” she told him, bringing his face down, down, until he was mouthing at her folds, his tongue flicking out to lap at her clit.

Lucy let her eyes close, her head falling back as Wyatt licked his way into her. She tightened her hold on his hair and he whined, obligingly focusing in on her clit. “Y-yes,” she instructed, her breath coming in short. “Good, yes, right there, good.”

She heard Flynn swear softly and she forced her eyes open. He was kneeling on the bed, his eyes looking black, his chest flushed as he stared. Lucy gave a breathless little laugh. “You can touch yourself,” she told him, “if you want. It’s okay.”

Flynn swallowed hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I— _fuck_.”

She started gently thrusting her hips up, into Wyatt’s mouth, feeling the pressure at the base of her spine increasing, a basin about to overflow. “Wyatt, you want Flynn to get you nice and wet and open for him? Hmm? You want him to fuck you?”

Wyatt pulled back, the blue of his eyes almost swallowed by the black of his pupils. “Yes, please Lucy.”

“Mm, you’re being so good today. We’ll have to show Flynn how we punish you another time.” She stroked his cheek, her thumb tracing the shell of his ear. Wyatt nuzzled into her touch like a cat. “You want to be held down?”

“Yes ma’am. If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, clever today.” She rubbed her thumb along his lips, and Wyatt playfully bit the pad of her finger. “Go ahead then. You make me come, and then make Flynn come, and we’ll let you follow.”

Wyatt went back to work, and Lucy looked up, meeting Flynn’s gaze the way she had the other day when he’d stumbled on them, challenging him to look away.

Flynn watched her, entranced, and him watching pushed her over the edge just as much as Wyatt’s tongue inside her did.

She arched, spilling over, the pressure releasing through her, her mouth dropping open on a soundless gasp as she came. Being in control, Flynn watching her like he’d die if he had to stop, Wyatt eagerly doing everything to pleasure her—it was a rush that she would never get used to and never get over.

Now that she had it again, she couldn’t believe she’d gone this long without it.

“Go on,” she ordered. “He’s been good, Flynn, I want to watch you fuck him.”

Flynn stared at her for a moment, looking like he’d had a brain glitch, and then he started moving. His hands slid up Wyatt’s back, massaging slightly, and then back down. Wyatt braced himself, pushing up into Flynn’s grip, spreading his legs a little.

Flynn lightly smacked Wyatt’s ass. Lucy sucked in a breath, a pulse of arousal shooting through her like an aftershock. Flynn looked pretty damn surprised at himself, but Wyatt just shuddered and moaned a little, pushing back into Flynn’s touch.

“Told you he likes it,” Lucy said, unable to stop herself from being smug. She passed Flynn the lube that he’d dropped. “Go on.”

Flynn took it, slicking up his fingers, and Lucy could see him shaking minutely, last-minute nerves. She petted Wyatt’s hair and he whined a little, impatient.

“Wait,” she warned, getting a little stern.

Wyatt bit his lip and nodded, going still and pliant as Flynn began to touch him.

She could tell that Flynn was taking more care and time, probably making up—in his mind—for the other day, and Wyatt held on tightly to Lucy as he struggled to hold still. Flynn was teasing him, moving slowly, waiting until Wyatt’s head was hanging down and he was gasping before thrusting deep and hard the way Wyatt wanted.

“Add another finger,” Lucy ordered. “Let him have it, Flynn. I want him begging for it.”

Wyatt looked up at her, his face flushed, and Lucy ducked her head down to kiss him. “Remember, you have to wait,” she told him.

He nodded.

“Why don’t you tell Flynn what you want, hmm? Let him know how much you like it.”

Wyatt started to push back onto Flynn’s fingers. “I—I want—I want you inside me, Flynn, please, I want you to fuck me—”

“Another finger,” Lucy ordered Flynn. “Gotta get you all loose. Do you want him to come inside of you, Wyatt? You want him to get you all messed up?”

“Y-yes please.” Wyatt started to thrust back onto Flynn’s fingers in earnest, and Lucy looked up at Flynn. She glanced down at Wyatt’s ass, then flicked her gaze back up to Flynn’s face.

As always, Flynn knew what she meant without saying a word. He lightly smacked Wyatt’s ass again. “I think Lucy told you to be still earlier.”

Wyatt groaned but immediately went still. “Yes, sir.”

Oh. Ohhhh that was—Lucy looked up at Flynn. “Sir?”

He gave her a sassy, savage grin. “You like that one too, do you?”

“Very much, sir.” She winked at him. She had quite a few ideas on how to incorporate that now. She looked down at Wyatt. “I think you’re good and ready.”

Wyatt nodded his agreement, and Lucy looked up at Flynn, nodding at him in turn.

Flynn pulled his fingers out, and then flipped Wyatt over so that he was on his back. Wyatt yelped and then moaned, surprised but turned on at being manhandled. Lucy secured his wrists, pinning him down onto the bed. “Fuck,” Wyatt choked out. “Fuck, I missed that.”

“Being surprised?” Flynn replied, sassing him.

“Being manhandled,” Wyatt said, meeting Flynn’s gaze. “And being held down. Lucy can’t—she’s small.”

Flynn snorted and Lucy gently squeezed Wyatt’s wrists. Wyatt smiled up at her, cheeky ‘til the end.

Flynn spread Wyatt’s legs, pushing them back a little, and lined himself up—then paused, looking at Lucy. Waiting for that final confirmation.

“Go on, handsome,” she told him.

Flynn entered slowly, and Wyatt made a choking noise of impatience as Flynn took his sweet time. “Garcia,” he groaned.

“I thought this was about letting me do what I wanted first?” Flynn replied, his tone light but commanding. His eyes closed and his mouth dropped open as he bottomed out, and Lucy felt a pleasant buzz as she took in how goddamn overwhelmed the two men looked. Flynn’s eyes opened and he looked down at Wyatt like a predator. Wyatt shivered and Lucy had to put more weight down to keep him pinned, unable to wriggle out of her grasp by accident.

“You get what you want after you give me what I want,” Flynn informed him. “That’s the deal, right?”

Wyatt nodded, his throat clicking dryly.

“And what I want…” Flynn started to thrust, slowly, shallowly, “…is to take my time with you. I want you to keep good and quiet until we say—and then I want you to beg us to let you come.”

Wyatt bit down hard on his lip and nodded frantically, his cock leaking in arousal. Flynn started to thrust harder and Lucy was seriously wishing that she’d thought to grab her vibrator or something because she was squirming a little herself, wet and needy all over again just watching them.

But she’d take care of herself in a minute. First she watched as Flynn started to truly let go, as Wyatt took everything Flynn gave him, never breaking eye contact, challenging him, proving that he wanted this, he could take it, that he wouldn’t break.

“Let go,” Lucy ordered. “Garcia, go on. Fuck him like you mean it.”

Flynn looked up at her, and God he was so fucking handsome, she was never going to get tired of watching this, watching him fall apart as he thrust harder, faster, deeper, as his gaze flicked up and down unable to choose whether to look at her or Wyatt—

“Go ahead,” Flynn ordered. “I want to hear you, Wyatt, fucking beg for it.”

Wyatt moaned helplessly, twisting against Lucy’s hold. “Garcia, please, Lucy, I want—please I want it so bad I want you to come in me and then I want to come please I want to feel it I want it mark me up please please please—”

Flynn came with a shove, nearly falling on top of Wyatt, panting, eyes glazed and unseeing. Wyatt whimpered, clearly desperate for it, shaking with need at this point.

Lucy let go of him, touching herself, thrusting her hips as she practically shoved her fingers inside and rubbed frantically at her clit. “Flynn, let him come, he was good, he deserves it.”

Flynn pushed himself up and gripped Wyatt’s cock, stripping it hard and fast, his gaze greedy on Wyatt’s face as Wyatt thrust his hips up like a piston, his fingers clumsily clawing at Lucy, at Flynn, little cries escaping him on each thrust until he went tumbling over the edge, coating Flynn’s hand.

The edges of her vision went white as she followed him, shaking.

Oh yes. Fuck yes, she was never letting this go ever again.

The two boys pretty much collapsed in a tangle together at her lap. Lucy laughed breathlessly, riding the aftershocks, combing her fingers through their hair. “My husbands,” she whispered, aching, overflowing, glowing with love.

Wyatt made a contented noise and nuzzled lazily at her thigh, pressing a soft kiss there. Flynn looked up at her, adoration plain on his face.

She kept petting them as the two men drifted off. They could always clean up later. Lucy watched them, and hoped—prayed—that this moment would last. That this bit of peace and togetherness would stretch on, and that the worst was finally behind them.


	15. Chapter 15

Flynn stirred as he heard someone knocking on the door. Lucy shuffled in his arms, sitting up. “Who is it?”

“Luce?” It was Amy, and she sounded upset.

Flynn lifted his arm so that Lucy could slide out. “Coming, Ames,” she called softly, putting on her slippers and grabbing her robe.

Wyatt rolled over. “Wha time izzit?”

Flynn propped himself up to look. Wyatt looked extremely put out. “One in the morning.”

Wyatt grumbled, eyes sliding closed again, scooting right up against Flynn’s chest.

Flynn’s heart skipped a beat. Fuck, the guy really had to be exhausted. Wyatt usually kept a very careful distance from Flynn, touching him like this only when it happened in sleep.

He dared to drop his arm over Wyatt’s waist, his hand resting at Wyatt’s back. Wyatt made a small sleepy noise and curled further into Flynn, burrowing his nose into Flynn’s neck.

Flynn ducked his head down, his face in Wyatt’s hair, and tried desperately to control the wild thumping of his heart.

 

* * *

 

“What’s up?” Lucy asked, drawing her robe around her.

Amy looked a mess, her cheeks pink and blotchy, her eyes red, her lips trembling. “Dave and I had a fight.”

“Oh, baby.” Lucy pulled her in. “C’mere, we’ll make some tea and talk, okay?”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Amy said, her voice shaking. “I’m not—y’know, it happens sometimes between couples, I know, but—it still fucking sucks.”

“I know.” She and the boys had had quite a few bunker-shaking fights in their time. “Come on, you’ll feel better after you talk.”

 

* * *

 

Flynn wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Once he was awake, he stayed awake, struggling to get back to sleep. It was why he was such an early riser. Wyatt was warm and heavy in his arms and he kind of wanted to savor this, actually awake enough to enjoy it before Wyatt woke up and put distance between them again.

As if he’d called that thought into being, Wyatt stirred. Flynn froze as Wyatt blinked his eyes open, taking him in.

Flynn wondered if maybe he should just cut and run now.

“You can’t sleep?” Wyatt asked instead, voice a little scratchy.

Flynn stared at him. “What?”

“You could never get back to sleep, when you were woken up,” Wyatt explained. He ran a hand through his hair, yawning, apparently unconcerned that he was cuddled in Flynn’s arms. “Usually we’d…” He stopped, his cheeks going pink.

Flynn could feel the sly grin spreading over his face. “We’d…” he prompted.

“Just… y’know…”

“We fucked.”

“Yeah, that.”

How they’d had sex a few times by now in some of the filthiest ways possible and Wyatt was still embarrassed about it, Flynn didn’t understand. “So you’re suggesting…”

Wyatt blushed harder but got bold, pushing himself up and swinging a leg over, straddling him, holding Flynn’s gaze with stubborn determination as he gave a shallow thrust.

Oh, yeah, Flynn was definitely on board with this.

“I’m suggesting you fuck me,” Wyatt said, raising his eyebrows as if to dare Flynn to make fun of him for the suggestion.

Hmm. A tempting offer, definitely. Flynn idly trailed his finger down Wyatt’s arm, then moved over to where he could feel Wyatt’s cock swelling, growing hard, rubbing his thumb against the slit and making Wyatt’s eyelids flutter.

He did enjoy that, very much. But he had another idea. He’d been wondering how it was when the positions were reversed. Now seemed as good of a time as any.

“Or,” Flynn suggested, reaching up to run his hand through Wyatt’s hair (Wyatt responded to it like a puppy getting scratched behind his ears, just melted into a fucking puddle, and Flynn frankly thought it was adorable as shit), “you could fuck me.”

Wyatt’s face went bright red and he made a sound that was some combination of a cough and three garbled words all trying to come out at the same time.

Flynn grinned slyly at him. “What, did we never do that?”

“Ah, uh, we—you—I mean—Lucy would—she’s got a strap on,” Wyatt finished weakly.

“…that I’m assuming she used.”

“On both of us yup yeah yup,” Wyatt managed to squeak out.

“…but I’m guessing that I always fucked you.”

Wyatt nodded. “It was—just—how things were? Because I mean, you were always—and I’m—”

“If I have to lecture you about how position does not equal dominant or submissive…”

“That’s—no, I just, I mean, it just never… really came up?” Wyatt looked like he wanted to die on the spot.

Flynn hadn’t been there, of course, so he could only speculate, but he did highly enjoy fucking Wyatt. And he knew that Wyatt liked submitting, and wasn’t really comfortable being in charge or working without instructions or guidance. And there was always Lucy.

His other self just must’ve figured, hey, things were good, and not even really thought to change it up. Why rock the boat?

“So if we did this…” Flynn let his fingers trail down the side of Wyatt’s face, down to his throat, letting them brush along the soft skin there. Wyatt inhaled sharply, his pupils going wide and his throat bobbing. “That would be a nice first, don’t you think?”

 _Something just for us, not a repeat of you and the other me,_ he thought, and wasn’t that odd. Welcome to time travel, where you could get jealous of yourself.

“Y-yeah,” Wyatt stuttered out.

Flynn pushed himself up, kissing Wyatt deep and hungry, until Wyatt shuddered and went beautifully pliant. “Then why don’t you do as I say and fuck me, Wyatt.”

“Yes,” Wyatt breathed against his mouth, hurrying as always to do as he was told. Jealousy clawed at Flynn’s chest again as he wondered if Wyatt liked to pretend that he was the old version of him, the better version, but he tried to shove that aside as he ran his hands up and down Wyatt’s sides, his back, touching him everywhere as Wyatt tentatively warmed his fingers up. He was so nervous, clearly, and trying so hard to be considerate, that Flynn couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“You’re okay,” he promised, cupping the back of Wyatt’s neck and scratching lightly at the base of his hairline. “Just do what you like, and go slow.”

Wyatt nodded. “I want to make it good for you.”

“You don’t have to be in control here, Wyatt. I’m in control. I’ll tell you what to do and how to do it, okay? You don’t have to worry about being perfect.”

Wyatt’s shoulders sagged in relief and he nodded, leaning in to rest his forehead against Flynn’s. “But I want to be,” he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Perfect, for you n’ Luce.”

Flynn’s heart broke just a little bit more at that. He wondered if that was why Wyatt had been so difficult before, so full of spit and fire, because he thought he had to be more than he was. “You’re good just as you are, Wyatt. C’mon, I promise you I’m not gonna break.”

Wyatt snorted softly in amusement. “That’s my line.”

“And I just stole it. Tough luck. Now get those fingers nice and slick for me, that’s an order.”

Wyatt nodded, a smile flitting across his mouth before he did as he was told.

“Tease a little, okay, it’s been a while.” He and Lucy didn’t use the strap on too often, since it was usually for when he really needed to get out of his head and she’d spend hours taking him apart and putting him back together.

Wyatt went slowly, circling, teasing, catching the tip of his finger on the rim and then just massaging around it. Flynn praised him in soft murmurs, keeping their foreheads pressed together, his free hand lightly running up and down Wyatt’s back. “You can put one finger in,” he instructed. “Keep it slow and steady for me.”

He shuddered a little as he felt himself being breached. He wanted to tell Wyatt that yes, on the one hand it was just sex, penetrating versus being penetrated didn’t necessarily mean anything, and that whole deal, but at the same time… it did mean something. He was finding something they hadn’t done in the other timeline and he was doing it because of that, because he wanted to fill in that spot on the sexual bingo card, wanted to curl up on it like a possessive cat and sneer at his other self and go _see, we did this, I did it with him, not you_.

But if he said anything he was pretty sure Wyatt would freak out and get even more nervous about doing this right, and Flynn didn’t want that. He wanted Wyatt lost in it. He wanted Wyatt with that blissed-out look on his face that he got when he was pushed past the edge into that other, deeper space where he was floating and trusting and overwhelmed with how good it felt.

Flynn focused back in as Wyatt curled his finger, clearly trying to find the best angle. He huffed with laughter. “Slow down there, cowboy. How about you add another finger, stretch me out a little.”

Wyatt obliged him at once, scissoring his fingers, spreading him, and Flynn felt his breathing start to speed up and get more labored as his arousal built. Wyatt’s fingers were thick and blunt, unlike Lucy’s, and it had that feeling of being owned to it, the one that did him in just a little. It was starting to feel good, really good, getting that slick, gliding friction feeling that made Flynn want to squirm uncontrollably, just on the edge of too much.

“Curl them up, just a little—more to the—” Electricity sparked inside of him and Flynn felt like his legs were melting. “Fuck, yes, right there, good, keep at it right there. Speed up a little, good, very good, you’re doing so well Wyatt, I promise.”

Wyatt blushed under the praise, kissing the corner of Flynn’s mouth a little clumsily, his arms shaking slightly. “I want—I want to be in you, I, is—is that okay? Can I please, Flynn? Please?”

Flynn was never one to say no to a little bit of a stretch, that slight burn. It would help him focus in, keep him from coming too soon and keep giving Wyatt orders. “Yes, yes you can, you’ve been good.”

Wyatt made a pained, yearning noise and pulled his fingers out carefully, preparing himself and lining up. “Are—are you sure?”

Flynn took Wyatt’s chin in his hand, tilting Wyatt’s face up until his neck was exposed, vulnerable. Like a wolf showing submissiveness. He nipped at Wyatt’s thundering pulse, flicked his tongue over Wyatt’s clavicle, sucked just underneath his chin. Wyatt whimpered but stayed still.

“Good,” Flynn growled softly. He pulled back, letting go of Wyatt so that their eyes could meet again. “Yes, I’m sure. Get inside me.”

Wyatt nodded shakily, and then he was entering him slowly, slowly, ever so carefully.

Flynn got his leg around Wyatt’s waist, dug his heel into Wyatt’s ass, and shoved. Wyatt groaned in surprise as he slid the rest of the way in. The air punched out of Flynn’s lungs. Oh, fuck, God, fuck yes.

He waited until Wyatt stopped trembling so much, then dug in with his heel again. He had to force himself to sound commanding, when he was already feeling dangerously close to the edge. “I thought I told you to fuck me, Wyatt.”

Wyatt pushed himself up, shifting, adjusting. He nodded in response, clearly trying to get his breath back.

“Can I get a ‘yes sir’?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Flynn ran his hand soothingly up and down Wyatt’s back. “I want to make sure you’re hearing me. Go ahead. Start slow, don’t overwhelm yourself.”

Wyatt nodded again and started to thrust, keeping it slow with deep, rolling movements. Flynn groaned slightly, feeling Wyatt’s cock warm and thick and alive inside of him, setting everything deep inside him on fire. “Faster,” he ordered.

Wyatt sped up, his mouth falling open and his eyes glazing over. Jesus, it had been decades since Flynn had gotten fucked by a guy and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now, digging his fingers into Wyatt’s heated skin, feeling himself starting to unravel. “C’mon, Wyatt, find the spot that’ll make me come. You’re not allowed to until I do, understand?”

Wyatt let out a little groan and shifted his angle, trying, clearly trying, searching for the angle that had made Flynn melt before—

He hit it and Flynn’s spine liquified.

“Fuck,” Flynn spat out, and Wyatt’s hips stuttered a little. “Yeah, right—right there.”

Wyatt whined high in the back of his throat, hands digging further into the pillows as he thrust, panting harshly against Flynn’s neck. Flynn tightened his hold on him, moving his hand down to Wyatt’s ass, guiding him, letting Wyatt know Flynn had him, that he was held, he was okay.

“I wanna…” Wyatt slurred, “I wanna, I want, Flynn, I—”

“Almost,” Flynn promised. Jesus Christ, yes, he was damn close, sparks running up and down his entire body. “You’re doing so well, so—so close, just a little longer, can you do that for me?”

Wyatt nodded frantically against Flynn’s heated skin, speeding up, trying to get Flynn there—trying to be good, to do as he was told, and fuck if that wasn’t a kick to the head. Wyatt would hold on as long as it took to do as Flynn ordered, to obey him, even as Wyatt lost control and became more and more desperate. He’d do it for him.

Flynn’s vision blurred as he dug his heels into the mattress, jerking, coming all over his stomach. Wyatt sort of sagged, tripping in his rhythm. _God_ that felt good. Flynn ran a hand through Wyatt’s hair, making soothing noises. “Okay, okay, you did—that felt so good, you were so good for me, go ahead, you can let go.”

Wyatt made a sobbing noise and lost all finesse. It felt like Flynn’s arms around him were the only things keeping Wyatt together, and Flynn held him as tight as he dared as Wyatt fucked into him with naked desperation and came with a head to toe shudder.

Flynn got his breath back first. “I’d say that was a success, wouldn’t you?”

Wyatt mouthed idly along Flynn’s shoulder, then hummed contentedly.

Oh yes. Definitely doing that again.

 

* * *

 

Lucy was so exhausted after talking with Amy that she just crawled back into bed without trying to make the men move. To hell with it if they woke up in the morning and found that Wyatt was snuggled completely in Flynn’s arms, Flynn’s mouth pressed to Wyatt’s forehead like he’d fallen asleep kissing him there. They could deal with their emotional constipation like adults.

She regretted that a bit later when she woke up and found both men gone. Flynn was off sparring with Dave in the exercise area, but when she tried to find Wyatt, he was nowhere.

Unless…

She crawled into the Lifeboat and found him curled up on the floor. Ah. She should’ve known.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She sank down next to him, taking his hand and resting her head on his shoulder. “What’s up?”

Wyatt gripped her hand tightly. “Last night, while you were talking to Amy… Flynn and I, uh, we… I fucked him.”

Lucy frowned. “We’ve been doing that.”

Wyatt shook his head. “No. I mean, I was pitching.”

Oh. Well. That was an image. Mmm… a very pretty image…

“We never did that,” Wyatt added. “Not in the original timeline, not in the one that you remember, not in this one. Never. And—fuck, Luce, I know it doesn’t mean anything but it does, y’know? It does and he acted like it was nothing, just some fun new position and I…” He scrubbed at his eyes, his voice cracking. “I love him so much and I think I have to accept that maybe he’ll never love me that way. And it…”

Wyatt buried his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking. Lucy’s heart skipped a beat and she wrapped her arms around him, cradling him.

“I didn’t want to say anything, I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Shhh.” Lucy pet his hair. “Wyatt, love, my love, I love you, of course you should say something to me.”

“I don’t want it to just be about my problems. I don’t want to burden you.”

“Sweetheart. It’s not a burden.” Lucy cupped his cheek, guiding his head up to look at her. Her heart broke all over again when she saw his flushed, agonized face. “It’s what I’m here for. You were—okay, you were a lot to handle when this timeline jump first started but honey there’s a difference between dumping all of your shit everywhere and confiding in someone when you’re hurt.”

Wyatt nodded. “It just hurts, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you into this. The—the bed sharing, the sex, all of it, that’s on me. You can move out if you want.” It would hurt her, she couldn’t deny that. It would really, really hurt. But she’d put up with it if that was what Wyatt needed.

Wyatt shook his head vehemently. “No. No, I know it’s stupid, but I can’t. I can’t give it up. I’ll take whatever parts of him I can get. Whatever he’s willing to offer.”

“You know it can’t go on like this forever.”

“I know. But just for now? Please?”

Lucy kissed him softly on the cheek. “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

Wyatt curled into her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know this is stupid but can you just… could you please just hold me?”

“Oh, Wyatt.” She held him as tightly as she dared, fitting her chin over his shoulder and rubbing his back. “That’s never stupid.”

She held him a long, long while.

 

* * *

 

He had to tell him.

It was stupid and it was going to make this precarious balancing act they had going tip over and explode but he had to let Wyatt know. It wasn’t fair to hold it back anymore, not when he was waking Wyatt up in the middle of the night to have possessive intimate sex while he literally held the guy and then fell asleep clinging to him like a fucking leech or something.

He was shocked Wyatt hadn’t guessed already but then, maybe it was just Wyatt trying to be polite, a part of Wyatt’s whole ‘be a better person’ thing.

Dave landed another punch and Flynn reeled, staggering. “Jesus, Flynn you okay?” Dave paused, putting his hands down. “You’re not in the game today, man.”

“Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

“Wyatt?”

Flynn narrowed his eyes. “Has Rufus been talking to you?”

“Nobody’s had to talk to me. The two of you are like spooked horses around each other. Did he do something?”

“No, no, nothing. I just—he—it’s nothing.”

“That sounds like the opposite of nothing.”

Flynn scrubbed at his jaw. “Look. I might have… ah. Developed some unfortunate side effects to sharing a bed with the guy and having sex with him.”

“Unfortunate side effects called being in love with him?”

Flynn glanced up and saw Dave’s softly knowing face. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Then tell him. The guy’s been gone on you this whole time, you two were married in the other timeline—”

“That was the other timeline. With a different me. A me who was—a me who had a better relationship with him than I do now. A me he could actually—”

The alarm went off.

Dave looked up at the blinking lights, then looked at Flynn. “Ever get the feeling there’s some higher being at play here who likes to make that go off at exactly the most annoying moment?”

Flynn just groaned internally.

 

* * *

 

“Jiya, Flynn, Wyatt, Lucy,” Denise ordered as they prepared to go. “Rufus you need a break after all that Lifeboat enhancing you’ve been doing, I won’t hear any ifs ands or buts.”

Rufus rolled his eyes but dutifully kissed Jiya goodbye and waved them off.

Wyatt did his best to look like he hadn’t just been sobbing into Lucy’s shoulder for twenty minutes. Flynn looked annoyed, probably because he’d been in the middle of sparring with Dave and hated it when his sparring sessions got interrupted.

He tried not to think about how he used to be Flynn’s sparring partner. The way Flynn had taught him how to be a better fighter, faster, more slippery, less predictable. The way their sparring would often end in Flynn pinning him and kissing the life out of him.

When things went sideways, honestly, Wyatt knew that he was probably to blame. His head wasn’t in the game. He wasn’t thinking right.

Jiya was with Flynn and he was with Lucy, until Jiya burst into the room where Lucy was (to her own annoyance) convincing President Wilson to agree to the extreme demands France would be making on Germany in the upcoming convention because while preserving the oncoming Second World War wasn’t anybody’s idea of a great day, God knew what Rittenhouse was planning to do—

And then Jiya was there, covered in dirt, a growing bruise on her cheek. “Emma,” she gasped out. “Shoot out. Down…”

She didn’t finish getting the words out. Wyatt shoved past her, rushing down the stairs. Lucy would deal with Wilson, Jiya was the pilot—he had to get to Flynn.

It was a madhouse downstairs as Emma apparently decided, once again, that subtlety was for idiots, and Flynn was, once again, in the middle of the fighting because he was a magnet for disaster that way.

Wyatt drew his gun, firing, running through the smoke to get to him. “You’re wildly outnumbered,” he snapped. “How the fuck you think you get to lecture me on safety when you’re always—”

“Can we talk about this later?” Flynn roared over the sound of guns firing. “I think we got all of them.”

“Lucy’s upstairs, let’s go.”

He practically dragged Flynn back upstairs, but when he threw open the door—

Emma pointed her gun right at them.

No, right at Flynn.

“I’ve been waiting forever for this,” she said coldly.

Wyatt didn’t even think about it.

He shoved Flynn as hard as he could, stepping in front—pain exploded, lights went off behind his eyes—Flynn gave a kind of roaring noise that didn’t even sound human—

Jiya rose up from where she’d been hiding behind a desk and gave a spectacular spin-kick she must've learned from Chinatown. Emma yelled in pain, and that was about the time Wyatt's vision got... weird. “Lucy got Wilson out,” Jiya said, but her words were slurred… why was she speaking in slow… motion…

The world tilted and Wyatt realized that Jiya wasn’t in slow motion. He was.

Someone caught him as he fell. He couldn’t feel his legs.

“Wyatt. Wyatt, no, no, no, hey, Wyatt I’m not doing this again—Jiya get Lucy we’re getting into the Lifeboat _now_. Wyatt. Wyatt look at me. I’m not going through this again, you hear me? I’m not _doing_ this again, fuck…”

He recognized the person’s smell, the person’s voice, but he couldn’t put a name to it. He hurt all over. The person pressed their face to Wyatt’s forehead, cradling him. “I’m not—Wyatt I’m not strong enough to do this again,” he whispered. “C’mon, stay with me. Lucy can’t do this again, Wyatt, stay with me.”

He was being lifted. Moved. It hurt but it was okay, he was in that person’s arms and they were warmth, they were safety. Someone was screaming, no, sobbing, maybe both?

“Get her onto the boat, Jiya, Lucy get on the boat, we can’t save him if we don’t get him back in time.”

He was moving away from the warm safe place. Placed in a… a chair…

Someone’s face swam into view. _Flynn._

Oh, thank God. It was Flynn, his Flynn, looking at him with those soft dark eyes. He’d missed him so much, so much, Garcia…

“He knows my name, he recognizes me, he’s not gone yet. Jiya power it up, why’s it taking so long?”

Flynn was moving away, it was all moving away, he was a part of everything and a part of nothing as the world unraveled…

He must’ve passed out. He must have, because the next thing he knew there was an annoying beeping coming from nearby and Lucy was clinging to him and crying.

“…Luce?”

He opened his eyes and was immediately assaulted by Lucy kissing every inch of his face. “Hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here.”

“You two have got stop doing this,” she told him. “My heart’s just going to give out one of these days you stupid, stupid boys.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not… not too bad. You needed, um, a transplant, but you’re okay now. No spinal injury, that was what the doctor was really worried about. You know how hard it is to treat someone who doesn’t exist? No medical records for them to—to go back to, they had to start from scratch, test you for pretty much everything, blood type, all that.” Lucy wiped at her eyes. “But you’re okay now, you’re here.” She grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles. “You’re here.”

“Where’s—” His voice was a croak. “Where’s Flynn?”

Lucy dropped her gaze. “He’s… he’s around.”

“…oh.”

Around, apparently, meant wherever that Wyatt wasn’t.

By the time Wyatt could sleep in a normal bed again, Flynn had apparently perfected the art of getting into bed once Wyatt and Lucy were dead asleep, and then getting out again and disappearing by the time Wyatt woke up. It was like living with a ghost that everyone could see except for him.

After about a week of this, Wyatt’d had enough.

He set his phone for a silent vibrating alarm under his pillow at five a.m. then lay in bed until he heard Flynn get up, and then he followed him into the kitchen.

“Any particular reason you’re avoiding me?”

Flynn, to his credit, didn’t jump in surprise. “Morning.”

“Don’t you ‘morning’ me. You’ve been hiding from me. What the hell, Flynn?”

“I’m not going to waste my time on someone who doesn’t give a damn about his own life.”

Oh, that was a fucking unfair blow and he knew it. “You asshole.”

“I’m the asshole?” Flynn whirled on him, abandoning the coffee maker. “You almost died, Wyatt. You were bleeding out under my hands. Forget that goddamn grenade incident, you were shot point blank. You were clinging to life for days, you told me you couldn’t feel your legs, you were pale as—as—as I don’t even know, Wyatt, you. Almost. Died.”

“What do you want me to do about that, huh? She was aiming at you, Flynn, she was aiming right at you and I wasn’t going to let her take you.”

“So you decided that was your call to make.”

“Damn right it’s my call, jackass!”

“You clearly can’t keep your damn head on straight when it comes to your emotions—”

“So what? I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’d do it again for you and I’d do it for Lucy, too, I’d do it a hundred times over for her. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Flynn strode over to him and Wyatt felt almost like he was one man being rode down on by an army of thousands. Flynn grabbed his shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully tight. “Don’t ever do that again. Ever.”

“What, you want me to apologize?”

Flynn released him, glaring sardonically. “I don’t know, it might be a nice start.”

“No,” Wyatt snarled. “No, I’m not going to apologize for this, you stupid—I’m done apologizing for loving you. I’ll apologize for everything else, because I was a goddamn jerk, but not for that. Never for that. I love you and I’ll throw myself in front of a fucking rocket if I have to if that’s what it takes to save your life because I’d rather die than live without you. Has that gotten through your head yet? Do you get that?”

“And do you get that you don’t love me?” Flynn replied, his voice flayed raw. “You love someone who doesn’t exist anymore, Wyatt. I’m not him.”

Wyatt felt like he was coming apart at the seams. He shoved him, his hands shaking, all of him shaking. “I do love you. I get—I get that you’re different, I do, but God, Flynn, I—I love the man who didn’t let me get away with shit, I love the man who challenged me and called me out, I love the man who risked his life dragging me away from that fucking grenade when he wasn’t even sure if I was alive, I love the man who noticed how I took my coffee and tore the kitchen apart trying to find where I hid the hazelnut, I love the man who holds me at night even though I’m too much of a chickenshit to tell you I noticed that. I love the man who freaked out after we had sex because he was scared he’d hurt me. I love _you_.”

He took a step forward, getting in Flynn’s face. “I’m not going to force my feelings on you, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t stop loving you, either, and so I’ll damn well protect you no matter what. You can’t take that choice away from me. Us? Together? That’s your choice. I’m not gonna force that. But you don’t get to tell me what to do with my life, either, and I choose to protect you if I get the chance. And you can’t stop me. Because trust me, if I could’ve stopped loving you, I would’ve. The moment you turned down that ring the first time I would have. But I can’t. So for the love of God, at least let me have this.”

He didn’t even wait for Flynn’s response, he just turned and walked away before he lost it completely and broke down like an idiot.

He forced himself not to look back, not to say anything else, he just walked away. Went into the bathroom, because it was the only place where he could be alone with a locked door between him and everyone else, slid to the floor, and just fucking cried.


	16. Chapter 16

Flynn stood rooted to the spot.

Wyatt—Wyatt loved him. _Him_ , not a ghost or an imitation. He wasn’t a replacement.

…he’d been a real idiot, hadn’t he.

Well, fuck if he was going to let himself be an idiot for a moment longer.

He strode after Wyatt, just in time to see the guy slip into the bathroom.

Flynn took a deep breath, then banged on the door. “Wyatt.”

There was no answer.

“Wyatt, I know you’re in there. Let me in, please.”

Silence.

Flynn slid to the floor. “I’ll do this from here if I have to.”

When he got no response, he took a deep breath. Confessing his feelings at six a.m. in the hallway where the entire bunker could hear him. Far from ideal, he’d admit. But he also didn’t really care.

“When you got shot I think the world stopped.” He took a deep breath. “And I thought… I’m not strong enough for this. I lost—I lost my family once. They died and I don’t know if it’s better that I wasn’t there to see it or if it was worse that they were already dead when I got to them. But I lost them. And I—I know, that you seem to think I’m this pillar of strength or some shit but I’m not strong enough to lose my family again. If anything happened to Lucy I think I’d… I think I’d walk into the ocean. And if anything happened to you…

“You have no idea what you looked like. You were just this—this mess of blood and it was so stupid but I thought, it wasn’t fair that you looked like that. That wasn’t how you were. That’s not who you are. And you were so heavy and so light at the same time when I picked you up… I just, it felt like maybe if I held you tight enough I could keep the life inside of you.

“I’m not saying that I take back the stuff I said during arguments. I’m not saying you made it easy in the beginning for any of us to like you. I’m not taking back any of the things I pointed out to you when you were being a shit. But you haven’t been that person for a while. You’ve been making things better, you’ve been making yourself better. And somewhere along the way you pulled one more shit move and got me to fall in love with you.”

There was a soft click, and the door opened. Wyatt pulled the door open and Flynn saw that he was sitting down as well, his face a blotchy mess.

Flynn scrambled to his feet, shoving his way inside and grabbing Wyatt, hauling him up, kissing him before Wyatt was even fully standing.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around Flynn’s neck, sobbing into his mouth, and Flynn couldn’t stop kissing him, didn’t want to ever stop kissing him, messy and slick and perfect.

“I’m sorry,” Wyatt whispered. “I should’ve—you were the strong one last time and you were always the one who reached out and I should’ve done that and I’m going to do it, so here’s me making up for all the times I never said it because I was a goddamn coward I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Flynn kept one arm around Wyatt, holding them together, but he brought the other one up to cradle Wyatt’s cheek, their mouths only an inch apart. It felt like his smile was going to split his face. “I love you,” he promised him. “I promise, I love you.”

Wyatt kissed him again, desperate and devoted. “Is it stupid that I keep thinking I’m going to wake up?”

Flynn shook his head. After all Wyatt had been through the past few months, that wasn’t stupid at all. “I’m going to give you a thousand of these before we’re through,” he vowed. He kissed him again, and he didn’t stop, not until Amy got up and made disgusted noises and ran around the bunker telling everyone about it.

 

* * *

 

What on earth was Amy yelling about?

Lucy ignored her sister’s latest dramatics in favor of getting dressed. Honestly, it was only seven in the morning, what the hell…

The bedroom door opened and Flynn stumbled in, yanking Wyatt in after him by the hand, the both of them flushed and laughing. “We’re never living that down,” Wyatt told him, his eyes shining. Lucy wondered if Flynn could see the explicit adoration in Wyatt’s eyes when he looked at him.

“Worth it,” Flynn responded, and oh, Flynn was looking at Wyatt in that soft way that he used to, and Lucy’s breath caught—

Both men turned to look at her, hands still clasped.

Flynn nodded, just the once, able to read her mind as always.

Lucy found her eyes stinging with tears and she sprinted into them, wrapping her arms around both of them, kissing Wyatt’s jaw and burying her face into Flynn’s chest, breathing them both in, her boys, her boys, _her boys._

“He loves me,” Wyatt whispered in her ear, like it was a secret.

Lucy giggled uncontrollably, clutching at both of them. Finally, after waiting and hoping and waiting and hoping, trying not to get too involved, trying to let them sort it out on their own… she had the both of them back, properly, all three of them together and interlocked the way they should be.

She tugged them both towards the bed. “I’d say this calls for a celebration,” she declared.

“Why is the answer always sex with you?” Wyatt noted.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you complaining?”

“Nope,” Wyatt said hastily, following her gestured command for him to strip. “Definitely not, no complaints here.”

Flynn laughed into her mouth as she kissed him, getting her hands underneath his shirt, smoothing her palms over his firm muscles. “Fuck me,” she whispered against his lips, just before he got his tongue into her mouth, twisting it in that way that made her shiver all over, her toes curling.

Wyatt got his arm between them, sliding his hand down her stomach and between her legs. She mewled into Flynn’s mouth as Wyatt fingered her, his index and middle finger rubbing her clit in slow, concentric circles until she was gasping.

“Is this what you asked for?” Flynn teased, his voice purposefully light and casual.

Lucy bucked up into Wyatt’s fingers and he obligingly slid them down into her, stretching her in that way that she liked. “Maybe,” she replied, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

Flynn growled, and she retaliated by getting her hand between his legs and wrapping it around his cock, using her thumb to toy with the foreskin. “I was thinking… did you know that I taught Wyatt how to give a blowjob?”

Flynn yanked down her pants as Wyatt pulled his fingers out of her and moved out of the way. “Oh, did you now?”

“Mmhmm. We used you for practice, of course. So I was thinking… you could fuck me…” She spread her legs. “And then Wyatt can demonstrate his extensive skills.”

“I did blow him in the shower,” Wyatt pointed out.

“Only to get me hard enough to fuck you,” Flynn replied.

Arguing while in the middle of foreplay. Yup, her boys really were back in top form.

“Are you saying you want me to blow you again?” Wyatt asked. “You feeling a little like you lost out, Flynn?”

“I’m saying I think you should show him that impressive lack of a gag reflex you’ve got,” Lucy said smugly.

Flynn’s expression was nothing short of fantastic.

“I like this plan,” he choked out after a minute.

“Excellent.” Lucy let go of his cock and framed his face with her hands instead, pulling him on top of her and kissing him. “Then fuck me. Rough.”

Flynn obliged her at once, sliding in a little faster than usual, giving her that slight burn that she craved. So she was a bit of a size queen, so what? Flynn rolled his hips, testing to make sure she was really okay. She kissed all over his face, urging him on, wanting it hard and rough. “Come on, handsome, fuck me like you mean it.”

Flynn braced himself and started to thrust into her, sharp and shallow at first and then going in deeper, bottoming out. Wyatt slid his hands all over her, all over Flynn, his mouth following, marking them both up, an expert by now at driving them even crazier without interrupting the flow of their thrusts. She loved ordering Wyatt (and Flynn) around and being in control but she liked this, too, none of them strictly in command, messy and touching each other everywhere and anywhere, lost in sensation.

She wrapped her legs around Flynn, her hands finding Wyatt, holding him in place to kiss him, moaning just a little bit into his mouth as Flynn got the angle right and was relentless, dragging against the nerves that made her legs seize up and her breath come in short. Yes, that was it, right—right there oh God _yes_ —

Flynn’s jaw was clenched as she shuddered underneath him, around him, clearly struggling not to come when she did. His impatience showed as he pulled out the moment her orgasm subsided and then she helped Wyatt flip him, kissing him deeply as Wyatt swallowed down his cock.

The sound that was punched out of Flynn’s chest and into her mouth was fantastic. He buried one hand in her hair and the other in Wyatt’s, trembling. She kissed his mouth, his jaw, down his neck and chest, paid special attention to his nipples as Wyatt set up a brutal, merciless rhythm, kissing her way back up to his mouth in time to swallow Flynn’s shout as he came down Wyatt’s all-too-willing throat.

“Jesus,” Flynn whispered hoarsely against her lips. “You two are going to be the death of me.”

“What a way to go,” she replied.

She glanced over at Wyatt, who was red-faced and panting, a very pretty blush going all the way down his chest, his cock straining and leaking. She winked at him, holding out her hand. “You want to come, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.”

Lucy swung a leg over Flynn’s chest so that she was bent over him, facing away from Wyatt. “Then why don’t we give Garcia a little show.”

Wyatt slid his hands up her back to her shoulders, then down her sides to her hips, squeezing once, gently, before getting his hand between her legs again, two fingers sliding in to check that she was still loose.

“Go on,” she encouraged, her breath hitching as the arousal that hadn’t really gone away started to build in earnest again.

Wyatt slid into her slowly, clearly trying to avoid hurting her after Flynn had already fucked her. Lucy shoved her hips back and Wyatt just about choked as he slid into her more than he’d planned. Honestly. She wasn’t going to break.

“You’re too impatient for your own good, _cher_ ,” Flynn said, chuckling and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Lucy kissed his fingers. “You like it. Go on, Wyatt.”

Wyatt started to thrust, able to get at her in a delicious and deep angle this way. Flynn’s glazed expression as he watched them was fantastic and Lucy knew that if they’d been, say, twenty-one that Flynn would be hard again just from this.

It was probably a good thing they hadn’t all known each other at that age. They fucked enough as it was.

Her mouth fell open as Wyatt began to thrust harder, finding the right angle. She twisted her hips, clenching around him, trying to draw him over the edge. His hands tightened on her hips and he gave a low groan.

Flynn craned his head up, sucking at her breasts, bringing that hint of teeth that she liked. Pleasure spiked inside of her and she just about melted. She was slick with sweat, Wyatt driving into her again and again, her body feeling like a livewire, like she was conducting electricity between the two of them. Flynn got his fingers on her clit, and his mouth at her ear.

“You have any idea what you look like?” he whispered. “Fuck, Lucy, if you’d told me six months ago I’d like to watch another man fuck you I would’ve called you crazy but you are—you’re heart stopping, both of you, I love watching you two drive each other crazy. I want to see you lose control, Lucy, I want you to give me one of those pretty little moans. Look at you, getting my hand all wet, you’re so close aren’t you, you want it so bad…”

She did, in fact, moan as his words soaked into her skin. Wyatt bit down on her shoulder, thrusting even harder, desperate little whimpers coming out of him every time he fucked into her. Flynn pulled away from her, sitting up enough to keep fingering her and kiss Wyatt.

“That’s it,” she heard him murmur. “Look at you, such a pretty thing. Think you can come for me, Wyatt? Look at me, show me those big eyes of yours.”

She wished she could see it, just hearing it was driving her mad, driving her closer to orgasm.

“I want to see you come, I want to hear you. You make the best noises when you come, did you know that?” She heard Flynn kiss Wyatt, slick and filthy. Wyatt’s thrusts became even more erratic. “Good, that’s right, be a good boy for me.”

Wyatt choked out, “Garcia,” and Lucy could feel him jerk and start to spill inside her, she could feel it, and Flynn’s fingers were still working her, and then his mouth was at her ear again, “he’s marking you all up isn’t he, he’s getting you all dirty and just the way you like it, _fuck_ , Lucy, you’re so beautiful like this, please let me see you, I want to see—”

She lost it, coming hard, her fingers practically cramping as she gripped the sheets, Wyatt still coming inside of her, feeling, yes, dirty in the most wonderful way.

They all collapsed in a tangle, Flynn a little more coherent than Wyatt or she was, petting them both and kissing them idly.

“We’re all on the same page now?” she asked, couldn’t stop herself from asking, scared this might lead to another fight but needing to know. “You love him and he loves you and you love me and I love both of you and it’s all—we’re all together, we’re all good?”

“Yes,” Flynn promised her, kissing her sweetly. “Yes, _moja draga_ , we’re all together.”

Lucy felt like she was floating, and that had nothing to do with the orgasm.

…okay, maybe just a little bit to do with the orgasm.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt couldn’t sleep.

He found, in the week or so following that fight with Flynn that had led to the whole confessing feelings debacle, that he was staying awake, watching Lucy and Flynn as they slept. He knew it was ridiculous, after all this time, but he couldn’t shake the fear that when he woke up, he’d be back at square one again. Or that maybe this time it would be Lucy who didn’t remember him, or both of them.

So he sat up, and watched them, and tried to focus on the good things instead.

Lucy was on Flynn’s other side, a bit of a change from the norm but Wyatt had been a bit… clingy, lately, and Flynn didn’t seem to mind being in the middle so that Wyatt could wrap an arm around him and sleep on his shoulder. Lucy’s dark hair spilled out on the pillow behind her, her hand on Flynn’s thigh, the corner of her mouth turned slightly upward. Wyatt gently stroked her hair, his thumb brushing her temple. She was so happy the last few days, flitting back and forth between him and Flynn, a goofy smile on her face. It made his chest feel almost unbearably light.

He pulled back from her, not wanting to wake her up, shifting as he did so. Flynn had an arm around his waist and so the movement must have woken him because Flynn stirred, his eyes slowly opening. “ _Liebling_? You okay?”

Wyatt had told him about the nicknames. Flynn had taken to interrogating him about their old relationship all over again, but this time with a playful eagerness, adopting the things that he liked—including the pet names.

“I’m fine,” Wyatt whispered back. “Just… y’know.”

“Just what?”

“I’m just—I can’t stop thinking—what if this goes away again? What if I lose you two again?”

“You won’t.” Flynn sat up, taking Wyatt’s hand and squeezing it gently. “Wyatt, look at me. You won’t.”

“I just, I love you. And I thought I knew how to handle it… but nothing’s permanent, is it?”

“Nothing is permanent, no. But that’s not because of time travel. The average Joe could get hit by a bus tomorrow and leave his average Jane a widow. We have to make what permanence we can. You won me over twice, Wyatt. I’d say what we have is pretty permanent.”

Wyatt nodded. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of the ring around his neck and think… there was a way to make it feel more permanent.

But he didn’t want to ask Flynn. Not again, not after he’d tried twice already.

Flynn reached over, cupping Wyatt’s face, his thumb stroking slowly back and forth. Wyatt had to close his eyes as they started to get hot.

“Wyatt. _Schnecke_. Look at me.”

He opened his eyes, looking up into Flynn’s face—Flynn’s soft, loving face, the one he thought he’d never get to see again.

“Ask me again,” Flynn whispered.

“What?” Wyatt had asked Flynn quite a lot of things over the last month or so.

Flynn gave him a small smile. His hand moved down to press over Wyatt’s chest.

Over the ring, still hanging on its chain around Wyatt’s neck.

“Ask me again.”

Wyatt sat up, his breath shaky in his chest, his fingers feeling clumsy as he drew the ring out, undid the clasp for the necklace, and slid it off the chain.

“Garcia… will—will you marry me?”

Flynn leaned in until their mouths were only an inch apart. “Yes,” he breathed, right before he kissed him.

Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut but wasn’t fast enough to stop the tears as he grabbed onto Flynn, kissing him with everything inside of him. He felt Flynn sinking down onto the mattress and followed, until he was straddling Flynn, leaning over him. Flynn pulled back with a soft, wet sound, and held up his hand.

His ring finger was bare.

Wyatt glanced to the side and saw that Lorena’s ring was now on Flynn’s right-hand ring finger, but the one for Lucy was gone. Wyatt’s throat closed up a bit.

“This ring is you and Lucy,” Flynn said quietly. “As she once told me, you’re a package deal now.”

Wyatt laughed wetly and slid the ring onto Flynn’s finger, nearly sobbing in relief when he saw it still fit. As if Flynn’s ring size might have changed along with everything else.

“I love you,” Flynn promised him. “ _Volim te_ , Wyatt, I love you.”

He sank down into Flynn, kissing him again, clinging to him, and neither of them let go for a very, very long time.


End file.
